There But For Grace
by honestgreenpirate
Summary: Sam and Dean are saddled with a tag along from the beginning of series one, mostly thanks to their Dad. More explanation in first chapter. Rating may go up for later swearing. Doesn't just follow the episodes despite first impressions...
1. Pilot

**A/N: To explain may be a little better - this story assumes everyone is familiar with all the episodes. It is a series of oneshots - one per episode, taking place at a time that I'll indicate at the beginning of each chapter.**

**It's supposed to be mostly light-hearted, providing some one for the boys to talk to if necessary or get angry with or get in the way. There will probably be angst at some point because I can't avoid it and this show is awesome at it! It's mostly an experiment so don't take it too seriously, I don't really think the show would improve if this was true but the idea got into my head and stayed there until I wrote about it.**

**I've only watched the first three series so PLEASE I beg of you don't spoil series four for me - I'm stuck in England so won't be seeing it until the dvds are out. On that note if you spot anything that sounds glaringly un-American and doesn't fit let me know. And if the dialogue doesn't work - that too. I try!**

**

* * *

**

There But For Grace

Chapter One

_Episode 1: Pilot – The fifth morning after Jess dies._

Sam Winchester didn't really like being confused or lost. Dean Winchester didn't like feeling out of control. Both of them were unappreciative of the current situation.

Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the impala, staring blankly through the windscreen and trying to formulate some sort of plan. If you were a mass murdering demon, who kills women by pinning them to the ceiling and blasting them with fire, where would you be?

The driver's door creaked open and Dean slipped into the seat, two cups of coffee balanced precariously in his hands. Silently, he passed one to Sam, who took it in equal silence before returning to his scrutiny of the empty parking lot in front of them. After sitting for a moment, sipping coffee, Dean started the car with a sigh and drove out onto the road.

"Sam – " Dean eventually began after a couple of miles, but he didn't get any further.

"I know. We've looked into everything we can think of."

Oppressive silence fell again. Dean knew what he wanted to suggest, to leave Stanford in the dust behind them, but didn't feel like he could. Sam had to say it first.

"So. We'll follow the coordinates." Sam finally said. "Did you find out where they go?"

"Place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado." Dean gestured to a map on the back seat as he spoke. Sam turned in his seat to reach it, frowning at the cross Dean had made.

"Should only take a couple of days," Dean added, sending his brother a speculative sidelong glance.

"Mmm," Sam agreed. He sighed a folded up the map. "Well, we may as well get going then, arrive in daylight tomorrow."

"Yeah," there was a slight pause before Dean spoke again. "We have to go pick someone up first."

He took a quick right into the car park of a fairly seedy looking motel and pulled up in front of door 25. Sam opened his mouth to demand an explanation, curious for the first time since Jess had died. Before he could speak, however, Dean left the car and was taking out a key for the room door.

Sam caught up as the door swung inwards and Dean strode in. At first Sam thought the dark room was empty, but Dean flicked on the main lights and Sam saw the form of a sleeping girl in one of the beds.

"Oh, Dean – " Sam protested, not wanting to get involved in this. His brother interrupted before he could get any further, however.

"Hey. This isn't what you're thinking."

He waited for Sam's slight nod of acceptance before walking over to the bed. He frowned down at the sleeping girl for a moment before reaching a hand behind her pillow and extracting a gun. He tucked this into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed one of the blankets at the foot of the bed, wrapping her in it. In one smooth and practiced motion he swung her up in his arms, starting back to the door.

Sam stared after them in confusion for a minute before following them out.

"Why doesn't she wake up?" he asked, deciding it was the most pressing question.

Dean bundled her onto the back seat of the car, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder.

"She can't. Nothing's gonna wake her up until she's ready to wake up."

Sam walked up behind him to get a closer look at the girl who couldn't have been older than he was: she was still completely unconscious.

"How is that even possible?" he demanded.

Dean sighed and slammed the door shut. He got into the driver's seat without replying and waited for Sam to walk around the car.

"I don't know," he said finally. "That's just how it is."

Dean started the car and began to pull out of the motel. Sam kept his silence until they reached the interstate and Dean relaxed into driving.

"How long has she been with you?"

His brother frowned, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

"Me and Dad met her about two months ago. The demon we were hunting was after her and we just stopped it killing her in her sleep. When all the noise of us fighting it didn't wake her up, it didn't take us long to figure out that she couldn't." he paused, remembering the meeting. "She's a magnet for evil, they always seem to find her."

"Not very useful when you're trying to hunt them," Sam commented.

"True. But we couldn't just leave her, she'd've been a goner." He paused again, overtaking the truck in front of them. "So, Dad insisted on taking her with us and when he left on this hunt, he asked me to look after her."

"Dad insisted?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Dean acknowledged the strangeness of the situation with a wry smile. "He's been trying to find a way to cure the sleep thing, but – no luck."

He fell silent again and his expression became serious once more. Sam kept the rest of his questions to himself for another day, right now he didn't need any extra baggage and he didn't think he would get anything out of Dean in any case.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Late that afternoon, about three quarters of the way across Nevada, there was a sharp intake of breath from the back seat. The girl sat up suddenly and automatically groped behind her for a gun.

"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living."

She looked up and met Dean's eye in the rear view mirror. Seeing that he seemed to be at ease, she relaxed and lent forward between the two seats to look out of the windscreen.

"Sam, this is Grace Jackson. Grace, this is my brother Sam."

Sam screwed round in his seat and held out his hand for Grace to shake. She did, with a small smile, before turning to Dean again.

"Everything ok?" she asked, reaching up a hand to massage the crick in her neck.

"Peachy," he replied, giving her a wry half smile before turning his attention back to the road.

Grace nodded, knowing that the reality was probably very far from 'peachy' but if Dean was saying that there wasn't any immediate danger.

"Do you have anything to eat?" she asked and Sam passed her an unopened bag of chips. "Thanks."

Grace moved back on the seat and watched the scenery flicking past the window. Casting a look between his brother and the girl occupying the backseat, Sam ventured to say,

"We're in Nevada. Heading towards Colorado."

Grace nodded, giving him a smile to acknowledge the information, but not seeming particularly interested or inquisitive about their destination. Waking up in the impala without any idea of what part of the country they were in, was a recurring situation for Grace.

* * *

**A/N: So I hope anyone reading this finds it vaguely enjoyable in some way. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Wendigo

**A/N: This one is shorter - just a very brief moment from the beginning of the episode.**

* * *

There But For Grace

Chapter Two

_Episode 2 – Wendigo_

Blackwater Ridge was beautiful. Pine trees grew up the hill, away from the car park attached to the rangers' cabin. The sounds of wildlife echoed around the mountainous and the air had the tang of damp earth fresh from rains.

Grace closed her eyes briefly, soaking in the sun that dappled down through the trees. Opening them again, she glanced towards the information centre Dean and Sam had disappeared into five minutes ago before hopping up to sit on the bonnet of the car. She rested her feet on one of the front wheels and looked back down the dirt track they had driven up.

She was feeling pretty good, appreciating the fresh air that wasn't intrinsically mingled with the dust of the desert states, but she knew that it wouldn't be long before she was asleep again. The chances of her seeing this job through where very minimal.

"Can I help you with anything?"

Grace jumped slightly at the sound of the voice and turned towards its owner. The man was tall and dressed in a ranger's uniform.

"Hi," she replied smiling. "I'm just waiting for my friends."

The ranger nodded and seemed about to move along when Grace spoke again, deciding she may as well make the most of the situation.

"Um, some friends of ours disappeared up on the ridge a couple of days ago. You don't know anything about that do you?"

The man's face turned from politely inquisitive to sympathetic.

"If they disappeared on the ridge I'm afraid it was probably a grizzly attack."

"A bear? Seriously?"

"Yeah, there have been a couple of incidents like that around here."

"Huh," Grace thought a moment. "So – "

She was interrupted before she could complete her next question however.

"Grace! Get off of my car!"

Dean was striding towards her and looking incensed. Grace quickly jumped off the hood, holding out a hand to the ranger who had been helping her.

"Nice to meet you – " she paused.

"Jake," He replied, taking her hand.

"Grace," she said, smiling.

Sam and Dean reached them and Grace dropped Jake's hand to follow Sam into the car. Dean pausing to wipe a cautious sleeve over the spot Grace had been occupying on his car, shooting the ranger a suspicious look as he walked away.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this random interlude. Let me know.**


	3. Dead in the Water

There But For Grace

Chapter Three

_Episode 4 – Dead in the Water – Leaving Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin_

It hadn't taken long after she had woken up, for Grace to realize that whatever had happened in Lake Manitoc, Dean had suffered. It was all there in the hunched shoulders and the quiet.

By the time the boys had got back from the lake, still slightly damp but no longer soaking wet thanks to Andrea, they were both exhausted. Grace had been pacing the motel room, gun tucked firmly into the waistband of her jeans, for the past half an hour. When she had finally woken up she had called Dean, following the rules initially laid down by John Winchester. It had always been to call Dean, never John, and Grace had accepted the rule without question, never stopping to consider why John employed that distancing technique when he had done so much for her in other ways.

To be diverted straight to answer phone hadn't worried her too much at first, but after quarter of an hour and still no answer at the end of the line, Grace began to get anxious. The only reason Dean wouldn't be taking her call would be because he really couldn't. And that would mean he was in some sort of trouble. When, another fifteen minutes after that, the two brothers staggered through the door, Grace was ready to go looking for them herself, despite her very vague knowledge as to what state she was in, let alone the town.

She didn't get the chance to demand an explanation before Dean spoke.

"Sorry, my phone's broken."

Grace nodded slowly as he walked past her, seeing that he clearly didn't want to say anything else about what had been going on. Sam sent her a sympathetic look, but was just as unwilling to share. They both stripped off their wet clothes before tumbling into bed, each asleep within minutes, a safety precaution nestled under their pillows.

Grace knew they would both be out of it until the morning and, in a perverse reversal of events, she was now the one who was awake, waiting on the others. She sighed, dug a hand in one of the pockets of Dean's jacket to extract a few bills, before shrugging on her own coat and leaving the room, locking it firmly behind her.

She killed an hour or so in a diner a couple of blocks down, drinking enough coffee to keep a normal person awake for days and eating her way through the meals she had missed while asleep. When she returned to the motel room, she found Sam had managed to throw off his blanket completely and bent down to cast it back over his spread-eagled body. Dean had his face buried into his pillow, one arm over the back of his head as if protecting himself from something.

Grace sighed and settled herself into a chair. Setting the tv on low, she resigned herself to a night of rubbish films and pointless quiz shows.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Grace went out again in the morning to buy the boys coffee, guessing how Sam took his having no idea what ratio of milk and sugar he required. When she returned, Sam was sitting up in bed, blinking sleepily. She handed him the cup and, as he didn't complain, guessed she had got close enough. She put Dean's on his bedside table; glancing down to check he was still asleep. Some time during the night he had turned away from the pillow and she could now clearly see the frown on his face, his lips tightly pressed together. Grace's brows drew together in imitation of his expression.

Looking up, she met Sam's eyes and gave a smile.

"Fancy sitting outside to drink these?" she held up her own coffee cup. "The sun's shining."

"Sure," Sam agreed, looking around for the jeans he had discarded the night before.

Grace left him to get at least partially dressed and went back outside to perch on the side of one the flower beds, taking a sip from her hot, black coffee. Minutes later Sam joined her. They were silent for some time, watching the comings and goings of the small town.

"Sam, what happened?" Grace eventually asked.

If he was surprised that Grace had finally shown some curiosity of what had happened while she slept, he didn't show it. Instead he gently explained about the people who had drowned mysteriously, about the boy, Peter Sweeney, who had disappeared thirty-five years ago, how Lucas had helped them find out what had happened, how it was Bill Carlton and Jake the Sheriff who had killed Peter and how Dean had managed to save Lucas, but no one could stop Peter's malevolent spirit taking the Sheriff.

Grace nodded slowly as Sam concluded the tale, beginning to understand why Dean was being so stand offish. Before they could talk about it, however, and Sam was curious as to how Grace would react, the door behind them swung open and Dean came out, coffee in hand. He was still frowning and he barely acknowledged their greetings. The three of them finished their drinks in silence.

As the day advanced and the warmth increased, Dean finally sighed and said that they should get going. The other two agreed and they returned to their room to pack.

Grace was last to leave the room and she glanced up to see Sam hesitantly saying something to Dean. She was too far away to hear what it was, but Dean's shoulders had tensed further still and it wasn't difficult to guess that Sam was offering some sort of placation for what had happened the day before, or that Dean didn't particularly want to be reminded of it.

Suddenly, both boys looked up and finally Dean's shoulders dropped as they saw whoever it was that was calling to them and walked over. Grace sighed and shouldered her bag, walking to the motel office to hand in their keys.

When she reached the car, Dean was sitting in the passenger's seat, talking to a boy of about ten.

"Alright, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

Taking the cue, the boy smiled and produced, "Zeppelin rules!" with great enthusiasm.

Grace couldn't help but laugh as she swung her bag into the trunk of the car.

"That's right. Up high," Dean was holding his hand up for the boy to high five him and Grace was glad to see him smiling. "You take care of your mom, ok?" he instructed more seriously.

The boy nodded. "Alright."

Dean smiled at him again and stood up to greet the boy's mother. Grace went to open the door behind the driver's seat, leaning on the impala's roof, waiting for the boys to say goodbye.

Acting as if on impulse, the woman lent forward and kissed Dean full on the lips. Just for the briefest of moments, but long enough to leave him confused.

"Thank you," she said, softly.

He stood still for a full minute, staring at her, the silence vaguely awkward. Grace caught Sam's eye and they both had to turn away to hide their smiles, Grace ducking into the car. Finally Dean moved, scratching the back of his head and walking around the back of the car to get into the driver's seat.

"Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

He got in quickly and Sam followed suit, both of them leaning forward to exchange smiles and waves with the mother and child, before Dean started the car and pulled out of the car park.

There was silence in the car for about five minutes before Dean finally intercepted one of the amused glances Sam and Grace were exchanging.

"What?" he demanded, turning to look at his brother and sending Grace a fierce glance in the rear view.

"Nothing," she replied, smiling innocently. "Just they made you lunch, that's really sweet."

Dean sent her another look only to see her look change from innocence to unholy amusement.

"Oh, shut up," he mumbled irritably. He knew that for the next couple of hundred miles he would have to put up with the pair of them mocking him whenever they were given half a chance.

* * *

**A/N: Did you like it? I think this was a very good Dean episode, that you get to see more of his character for the first time, so it's mostly on him. Also, I just like Dean :)**


	4. Phantom Traveller

There But For Grace

Chapter Four

_Episode 4 – The Phantom Traveler_

Consciousness came rushing back with staggering force as Grace rose from the pitch black of her sleep. As she struggled for some sort of regular train of thought, she snaked a hand under her pillow and drew out a gun, cocking it in the same motion.

She sat up slowly, straining her eyes in the dark and listening intently for any sound of movement in the room. After a minute of complete silence she relaxed slightly, reaching over to turn on the light but not releasing her hold on the gun. She knew that Dean and Sam weren't in the room, they both well aware they had to let her know it was them early on, she had nearly shot Dean a couple of times when he hadn't announced his presence.

With light flooding the room she looked around carefully once more, before finally accepting that she was alone. She released the gun's hammer and set it in her lap, reaching for her phone before leaning back against the headboard. She set the phone to call the first of her speed dial numbers and raised it to her ear, letting her head fall back against the wall.

It rang twice before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Dean's voice came out anxious.

"Hi." Grace suddenly felt more awake, tense again as she registered his tone. "What's going on?"

"Um, nothing. Well, not really, we're sort of after this demon and there's a plane, and – " his voice ceased, to be replaced with the sound of him taking some deep breaths.

"Dean? Dean, are you ok?" Grace's voice rose in worry.

There was a slight scuffle and Dean's breathing was replaced with Sam's voice.

"Grace?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "What's happening?"

"Everything's ok, just – Dean's a little scared of flying."

Grace could hear Dean's indignant protestation of "Plane's crash!" in the background.

"Why are you guys going on a plane?"

"There's a demon that's trying to crash it and this is the only way we can stop it." Sam's tone was low and Grace could imagine him casting an anxious glance around the crowded airport.

"Right," she said, trying not to sound too worried. "Um, where am I?" she felt a bit foolish asking Sam, Dean usually told her without her having to ask and that was much less awkward.

"Oh, right, you're in a motel in a place called Kittanning, Pennsylvania. Listen, we're in Indianapolis."

Grace felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. "Oh."

"Sorry, we had to get here before the plane took off." Sam began to say something else, explain further, but Dean's voice interrupted him from the background.

"Get her to pick up the car."

"Dean says can you please come pick up the car. We left it in the airport car park and that's probably not the safest place considering what we have in the trunk."

"Yeah, I can pick it up, no problem."

"We'll leave the keys," Sam's voice was beginning to sound distant as he walked through the airport.

"No, it's alright, I've got a set," Grace assured him, her mind already planning the best way to get from Pennsylvania to Indiana – she was looking at a long bus ride.

"Oh, ok," there was surprise in Sam's voice, not thinking that Dean would let anyone else have keys to his precious car, but he didn't press it. "Grace, I've got to go. We're boarding. We'll see you when we land."

"Ok. Take care and I'll see you soon."

"Sure. Bye Grace."

And Sam hung up. Grace let her phone fall, closing her eyes briefly and frowning. They were about to board a plane, with a demon on it, that was supposed to crash. Any way you looked at it, that was not a good plan. She sighed. Well, they would look after themselves, and she had to get to Indiana.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It hadn't occurred to Grace, until after she reached Indiana and found the impala, that perhaps the plane wouldn't land back at the airport it had started out from. For all she knew, she had a long drive ahead of her to meet them. The car was where the boys had left it, however, and there were no signs that anyone had noticed anything suspicious about it.

She got quickly into the driver's seat, started it up and drove out of the car park, paying the extortionate airport-parking fee on the way. Pulling up on the side of the road not far from the entrance to the airport, she took out her phone and waited for a call.

It wouldn't be long, she hoped. They were boarding when she had spoken to them and that was getting on for, she glanced at her watch, seven hours ago now. Even allowing for delays and talking to the police, they should have finished by this time. Her right foot began to jiggle restlessly up and down and she passed her phone from one hand to the other.

They would be fine. There was no way that one stupid demon could take the two of them out. And if there had been a plane crash she would have heard about it on the radio.

These reassuring thoughts didn't seem to help that much and when her phone rang, she jumped in her seat. Frantically flipping it open she gasped, "Hello?" anxiously down the line.

"Hey, Grace."

The sound of Dean's voice sent relief flooding through her.

"Hey," she replied. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, fine. Just about. We're at the airport. Want to come pick us up, the cops are a bit persistent around here."

Grace smiled. "Sure, I'll be at the entrance in a minute."

She hung up and started the car again.

Ten minutes later she was swinging into the pick up bay in front of the airport. She saw Dean and Sam waiting outside and pulled up next to them. They waved briefly at a blonde woman in an airhostess uniform and got quickly into the car.

"Let's go," Dean instructed from the passenger seat and Grace pulled out. She was a bit surprised that he hadn't insisted on taking over the driving.

As they pulled onto the main road, she sent him a glance and noted he looked shaken and still pale. Looking back in the rear view mirror, she saw that Sam looked anxious as well, though not as bad as Dean.

"Is everything ok?" she asked, frowning between them both.

There was a short silence as Sam looked towards Dean and Dean looked out of the window.

"Yeah, everything's fine, Grace," Sam finally replied.

Realizing she was not going to get a more detailed answer, Grace nodded and concentrated on the road ahead. It wasn't long before both the boys fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: A little bit more insight into Grace there - hope you enjoyed, let me know!**


	5. Bloody Mary

**A/N: This episode really freaked me out when I first saw it - in a good way :)**

* * *

There But For Grace

Chapter Five

_Episode 5 – Bloody Mary_

It was probably Charlie's state of panic that meant she hadn't objected to the unconscious girl in the second of the two beds that furnished the motel room. In a normal situation she would have been demanding an explanation from the Winchester brothers, but Bloody Mary seemed like a more pressing issue.

When all the reflective surfaces were covered and Charlie's story had been told, however, Grace began to pose a problem.

"We can't leave Grace here," Dean told his brother, as Sam went to leave.

"What? Why not?"

"Are you kidding? If she wakes up, chances are she'll shoot Charlie. Not really the outcome we're going for here."

Sam sent a look at Charlie, who was still sobbing, her head cradled in her hands, then turned towards Grace, fast asleep on the bed, dark hair shadowy on her pale skin.

"So, what do we do?"

"We're gonna have to take her with us. No matter how pissed she gets," Dean walked over to the bed and picked Grace up in his arms. "Get the door will you."

Sam held it open for them to pass through and glanced back at Charlie before leaving himself, locking the door behind him. Reaching the car he saw Dean trying, and failing, to prop Grace up in the back seat. He soon gave up, letting her fall onto her side, and took off his leather jacket to put over her.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

It was on the way back to the motel, after Bloody Mary had finally been subdued, that Grace woke up.

"Oh god," She groaned thickly, sitting up so Dean's jacket slid off her and reaching up a hand to brush her tangle out of her face. "I feel awful."

"Sorry about that, you wouldn't sit up straight," Dean didn't even glance back towards her, blatantly implying that she had brought her aches and pains upon herself.

She scowled at him. "What am I even doing here?" she demanded. "I distinctly remember falling asleep in a motel room."

"Yeah, we had to move you," Sam explained. "We're looking after this girl, Charlie, and we didn't want you to shoot her when you woke up."

Grace took a split second to attempt indignation, but it was impossible to maintain so she contented herself with settling back into the seat and stretching as much as was possible in the cramped conditions.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The journey to take Charlie home was full of awkward silence. It sprung from Charlie expressing shock at the fact Grace was alive and not some dead body the boys were lugging around for whatever reason. Which led to an argument between an irritable Grace and a stressed Dean. Eventually, Grace had given up and started ignoring him, stuffing her headphones in and turning her music up high.

When Charlie got out of the car, the two girls exchanged vague waves. Sam lent out of the car window to say something to Charlie and his serious expression didn't escape Grace's notice. She maintained her silence, however, and when Dean looked into his rearview mirror to check if she was tracking the conversation, she turned away to look out of the window.

It was clear that they needed to talk, and to talk privately. Unfortunately, within the confines of the impala that was virtually impossible when Grace was sitting, awake, on the back seat.

She sank further down, below the line of the window, concentrating on the dappled shadows the trees made. She couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, but couldn't help but feel she was intruding however hard she tried not to.

Guilt was not an emotion she enjoyed experiencing. In her situation, however, it was hard to avoid. There seemed to be very little she could do to help the Winchester boys, or their father, yet she was completely dependent on them to keep her safe and not leave her in a random motel somewhere in the United States.

She did what she could to avoid it. Not asking many questions, helping out wherever she could when she was awake; she had committed a fair amount of credit card fraud herself and sometimes a pretty girl had an easier job of getting answers out of a man than two young guys. But, really, this amounted to less than nothing and for the most part, she felt useless. Not even apathetic, but aggravating. And guilty as hell, especially if she had argued with Dean and she tried _so hard_ to avoid that.

And that hardened her resolve to do something about it. John had tried, tried to find some way to stop her sleep, or to get her to wake up. But if that was impossible, then she would just have to find somewhere else to stay, somewhere protected.

Grace let her eyes fall closed, the sunlight staining her lids red with blood.

* * *

**A/N: Bit more about Grace and some old fashioned angst. Let me know!**


	6. Skin

**A/N: This one is quite a bit longer than the others - I started rambling through the feelings of the characters and once the flood gates opened they just wouldn't shut up. Hope you like!**

* * *

There But For Grace

Chapter Six

_Episode 6 – Skin_

Grace stretched to her full height, reaching her arms up above her head as she took in the gas station they had stopped in. They had been in the car without a break for about six hours and, unusually, she had been awake for every one of them. Awake and quite bored.

"Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight."

Grace nodded as she passed Dean on her way to the shop door, mind on what food se was going to get. He wasn't looking at her though. His attention was fixed on Sam, who, in turn, had his attention fixed on his blackberry. Dean considered him for a moment.

"Sam wears women's underwear."

Grace laughed as she went into the gas station shop and heard Sam reply, "I've been listening, I'm just busy."

Displayed on the shelves were the usual garish collection of candy and chips. She sighed, once it would be nice to eat something that didn't make the inside of your mouth shrivel up with the excessive content of either sugar or salt. Making a slow tour of the shop, but with little hope of finding anything particularly appealing, Grace pulled out her phone and began flipping it open and shut.

She knew what Sam was busy with, he had been checking and replying to his emails for a lot of the trip. Seeing him do it and connect with people outside their tight knit group of three, four with the ever-present ghost of John, reminded Grace of people she had left behind. Not really anyone that important, the guy who thought that they were only seeing each other casually but who, in reality, Grace saw nearly every day she was awake, a couple of colleagues from the bar she had been working at and a school friend that had tenaciously kept in touch for the past five years since high school had ended.

Perhaps Kelly was important though. Grace had always been one of those girls who scared the guys at school. Some sort of intimidating mystery attached to her that made them not want to make the effort. For the most part, it hadn't bothered her. She got on well enough with most of the people in her class on a superficial level and Kelly was there to sit with at lunch, to walk home with and to ask questions about homework. Kelly was probably the person she had spent most of her time with growing up and when high school had finished, Grace had up and left with the briefest of brief goodbyes and with little thought about keeping in touch.

Kelly had apparently had other plans, however. She had been a good girl, studious, getting into a top college and having the most fantastic time for five years before graduating with adequate if not flying colors. It was hard to achieve "proper" college experiences and flying colors at the same time. Now she was working in the city and dating a boy she had met in her final year, slightly older and with a steady income.

Or she had been the latest report Grace had received. These bulletins were mostly delivered into her voice mail and, little though she sought them, she enjoyed hearing what Kelly was up to in her normal life.

Finally, picking a granola bar, some salted potato chips, peanut m&ms and a bottle of water, Grace made her way to the counter. As she waited for the guy to ring up the groceries, she tried to signal to Dean and Sam out of the window, the thought just having occurred to her that they might want something. They appeared to be in deep conversation, however, and, by dint of adding a bar of chocolate to her pile of food, she thought she could probably share.

Leaving the shop, she flicked her phone open once more. Dean was still filling up the car, and talking earnestly to Sam, so she thought she had a couple of minutes. Scrolling through her meager contacts list, she paused on Kelly. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a moment, before frustration at herself set in and she punched down, holding the phone up to her ear as it rang a couple of times before going to answer phone.

The sound of Kelly's voice on the answer phone message surprised her for some reason, and she was silent for longer than she should have been, a couple of seconds after the beep. Finally she took a breath and began to speak.

"Oh. Hi, Kelly. It's – it's Grace," She paused and took another breath, not really sure what she wanted to say. "Um, I suddenly realized I hadn't heard from you in a while and just – just thought I'd give you a call. Nothing urgent, just wanted to see how you're doing. Anyway – um, call me. Bye."

Sighing, she hung up. She knew she hadn't exactly sounded enthusiastic. She was tired, again, frustrated from being in the car so long and still not sure that she had done the right thing by calling her old friend. Perhaps Kelly hadn't phoned her in a long time for a reason, perhaps she was finally sick of doing all the leg work in their friendship.

Sighing again, Grace closed her phone and tucked it in her pocket, walking towards the car. She walked up just in time to hear Sam state firmly,

"They're in St Louis. We're going."

Dean laughed disbelievingly. "Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." He clearly didn't comprehend Sam's need to go.

Grace tossed the carrier bag into the back seat and followed it into the car. She moved forward on the seat to look over Sam's shoulder.

"It is our problem!" Sam protested. "They're my friends."

Dean shook his head and went to take the pump out of the car.

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam."

Sam didn't reply, merely stared at his brother until Dean sighed heavily and caved. Swinging his legs into the car, Sam slammed his door and moments later Dean was in the car as well, and turning out of the gas station.

"What's in St. Louis?" Grace asked as they got going.

"Old friend of mine," Sam replied, passing his blackberry, with the relevant email open on it, back to her.

Grace's eyebrows rose slowly as she read the email. When she finished she passed it back to Sam.

"I take it you agree with Becky, it wasn't this guy who murdered his girlfriend?"

"Definitely not."

"Ok."

Feeling that the discussion was settled, Grace lent back and began to dig through her bag of food.

"That's it?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at her in the rearview mirror.

"What's it?" she asked, not looking up.

"You just take Sammy's word for it like that?"

"Yeah, why not?" Grace glanced up to see Dean opening his mouth to make another observation. Forestalling him, she chucked the bag of peanut m&ms she had bought into his lap. "Here, have some candy and stop being so grumpy."

He frowned at her, but didn't say anything else. As the silence grew, Grace saw Sam's shoulders relax slightly. He had enough to think about without Dean trying to antagonize either of them.

Dean kept his attention stubbornly on the road for about five minutes before he reached down and opened the packet of m&ms. Seeing him do it, Sam and Grace exchanged a small smile.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

They weren't even half way to St Louis when Grace's phone rang. It was an unusual enough occurrence for both the brothers to take note, but Grace answered it without bothering to check the caller id.

"Hello?"

"Grace?" came an uncertain voice from the other end.

"Yep," Grace agreed, her concentration still on the crossword they had been working on together, Dean far more of a hindrance than a help.

"Hi, it's – this is Kelly."

Grace let her pen fall and struggled to sit upright on her seat before replying. "Kelly. Wow, hi, how are you?"

It was the first time they had actually talked to each other, heard the other's voice at the other end of the line, in months, possibly a year, and Grace was working hard not to feel or sound completely awkward and socially backward. Dean and Sam exchanged glances in the front seat, silently asking the other whether they had heard of someone called Kelly.

"I'm good, I'm good. How about you? Everything going ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine."

They were both repeating themselves a lot. Kelly was the first to voice the strangeness of the situation.

"This is – weird, huh?"

"Definitely weird," Grace agreed, relaxing slightly and leaning back into the seat. "Where are you? Still in Chicago?"

"Yep, still here, slogging away."

"And still with Jack?" Grace prompted.

"Yes, very much," There was a brief pause and Kelly took a breath. "Actually, we're engaged!"

Grace squealed. A real, live, high-pitched squeal that sent Dean swerving slightly across the road and caused both men to send her horrified looks.

"Oh my god, congratulations!" Grace exclaimed down the phone, ignoring the stares of the two in the front. "How long for?"

"It's only been a couple of weeks and the wedding's not going to be for a while. We're going to live together for a bit first."

Grace was nodding down the phone, making agreeing noises. "Well, that's fantastic, Kel," the nickname slipped from Grace's tongue without her registering it. "I hope you're both really happy."

"I think we will be," Kelly replied, her broad smile audible. "But what about you? You're still in ­­Montana?"

"Er, no, I'm not," Grace finally glanced towards the front seat, just in time to surprise both Sam and Dean looking at her. She raised her eyebrows and they both glanced hurriedly away. "I'm actually on a sort of – road trip, with some friends of mine."

Grace frowned as Kelly asked a question.

"Um, no, you don't know them." There was a pause as Kelly clearly tried to tease some information out of her. "Sam and Dean. I know their Dad."

The last comment earned her another look from the boys, what on earth did it have to do with knowing their Dad? Grace studiously avoided their eyes. She smiled at whatever Kelly had said.

"Yeah, they are actually adults," she flicked her eyes to the back of Dean's head. "Though, sometimes…" she trailed off suggestively and laughed at Kelly's response.

Sam had given up all pretence and was screwed around in his seat watching her curiously and Dean was staring at her in the rear view mirror a little more than was strictly safe when the car was in motion. He flicked his eyes up once more, in time to see color rise high in her cheeks.

"No, Kelly," Grace admonished gently. "Seriously, no." A slight pause. "Because that would be weird. And wrong." Grace ran a hand over her face. "Ha ha. Actually, Kel," she had looked up to find both boys staring at her with complete lack of subtlety. "Now's not really a good time to talk. Can I call you back sometime? Ok, yeah, that'd be great. Talk to you soon. Yeah, bye."

Grace flipped her phone shut and stared down at it for a moment before summoning the courage to look up.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Dean replied, turning his gaze back to the road but clearly not his attention.

"Nice phone call?" Sam asked, eyes wide.

"Yes," Grace replied shortly, narrowing her own eyes in response.

"Good. Who was it?"

"My friend, Kelly," she ground out, scowling at him.

"That, we gathered," Dean informed her, glancing in the mirror again. "Did she have anything interesting to say?"

"Plenty."

There was a long pause as both brothers waited for more details and Grace remained steadfastly silent.

"And?" Dean finally asked, impatiently.

"And nothing." Grace told him impatiently. "We were just catching up."

"Huh." Was all he said, regarding her inscrutably for a few moments. When he finally tore his gaze away, Grace shifted her eyes to Sam. He gave her a fleeting, innocent half smile before turning around in his seat and facing the front again.

Grace crossed her arms and huffed out a breath. They were going to make this awkward, she knew it. There would be Sam's solicitous enquiries as to how Kelly was even though he had never met her and Dean's suggestions of what they could talk about and teasing offers to stop to let Grace out so they could have a proper long girly conversation without being over heard.

Underneath it all though, she wouldn't be surprised if they were worried. Dean especially.

Sam would understand what it was like to have friends outside the job and how important they were. His willingness to try and help Becky and her brother were proof of this. Even though Grace wasn't exactly a proper hunter, Kelly didn't know anything about her life anymore.

Dean didn't understand that. He was close to very few people, and half the time Grace wouldn't count herself as one of them. He knew that people who found out about hunting either didn't believe them and that hurt, or they got hurt because of the job. Innocent people hurt only because they were connected to the Winchesters in some way. Their Mom and Jess were proof enough of that.

At the back of his mind, and occasionally nearer the forefront of it, he saw Grace as deeply vulnerable. Under his father's orders, he had tried to teach her how to defend herself and the basic lore of supernatural beings. But even though she could know handle a gun or a knife, could stave of an attacker for a limited time with her bare hands and knew a certain amount about protecting oneself from evil beings, she still didn't know enough. And she wasn't strong enough, not able enough to protect herself properly, and that made her vulnerable and a target. And all of this was before he even considered the fact she could sleep through an entire attack without once stirring.

Emotionally… well he didn't want to have to see her emotions put through the test of losing someone. Didn't want to see what it might do to her.

Sometimes Dean had to remind himself that he hadn't actually known Grace all that long. Had to remember that he didn't actually know all that much about her. She had become so much a part of his world, the small unit that he counted as family, that he couldn't think of her not being there any more. It wasn't the same way that he missed his Dad or feared losing Sam; for starters Grace was barely ever awake. But there was something about her presence that felt right and that he needed, that Sam needed as well now.

The sudden knowledge that Grace had a friend, or possibly friends, beyond them that she cared about came as a bit shock. And on top of the fact that they were speeding to the rescue of one of Sam's old friends – Dean found that hard to deal with.

By the time he had realized this, however, and decided that, while he had no wish whatsoever to actually confront the problem head on, he did want to say something, anything, Grace was asleep. Dean flicked his gaze from the road, to look at her in his mirror, and saw that her eyes were closed, her head drooping to one side. He sighed. By the time she woke up the moment would have definitely passed, but maybe that was a good thing. He didn't know.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Grace didn't wake up before Dean had become the main suspect in a murder case and apparently been killed. It was lucky that she had got in contact with the boys before she had seen the news.

She only saw Becky from afar, looking through the windows of the Impala as Sam hugged her goodbye. She looked nice, normal, but laden with the fresh knowledge of what it was that Sam and Dean did – the knowledge that there was something out there in the dark, something evil and vicious.

At this point it had been to late for Dean to say anything about Kelly and he didn't have a clue what he would say if given the chance, so settled for silence.

If Grace was surprised that neither of them mentioned the conversation again she didn't show it, but she did keep in better touch with Kelly than before. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if it was someone who could never know the truth and who teased her mercilessly for traveling the country with two good looking, single men.

* * *

**A/N: Please let me know what you think! :)**


	7. Hookman

There But For Grace

Chapter Seven

_Episode Seven – Hookman_

There had been minutes, well more like an hour, of panic for Grace to suffer when she woke up and Dean wasn't answering his phone. And neither was Sam.

She decided that pro-activity was her best option, something to take her mind off the fact that they could be anywhere, in any situation. Most likely a dangerous one.

A little reconnaissance revealed that she was in Ankeny, Iowa and it was pretty early in the morning. There was a diner near the motel she was staying in, a diner that offered wi-fi and hot coffee, definitely her best option.

A quick call to the phone company and she had charmed her way into getting them to turn the GPS on Dean's phone on and it was giving out a signal. A little more investigation and she found out where they were.

The police station.

How absolutely, bloody typical.

It would explain why neither of them had picked up her calls; personal affects being confiscated when one was arrested. Grace left the diner quickly, asking about buses into the centre of town as she paid her tab, and concentrated on not thinking of the many reasons why they could have been arrested, each one that slipped into her imagination more ludicrous and more perilous than the one before.

Arriving at the police station, she quickly spotted the Impala, parked safely on the curb. She walked over, casting a look around to check there weren't any officers of the law about to treat her with suspicion, and, tugging out her spare set of keys, unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The fact that the car was parked, bold as brass, just outside the police station, didn't seem to add up with the rest of the events. The possibility that they hadn't actually been arrested but were in fact following up a case, only now presented itself to Grace. It was possible that they were just in the middle of a meeting and neither of them wanted to interrupt it by answering their phone.

But this thought no sooner presented itself to Grace than she dismissed it. Dean always answered his phone, unless his phone was broken, he was being chased by something or in the middle of a fight. Or it had been taken from him. It was unlikely that his phone was broken again so soon, and even the Winchester boys couldn't be in a chase or fight for over an hour. The rational explanation was definitely that they had been arrested.

And if that's what had happened, she was going to kill them.

Just as Grace reached this conclusion, there was movement by the doors of the police station and she looked up to see the very objects of her thoughts come strolling out, apparently without a care in the world. She got quickly out of the car, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it, arms crossed against her body.

"Saved your ass!" Dean exclaimed, clearly having yet to notice Grace. "Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am _Matlock_."

Sam was sending Grace an apprehensive. "Well, good luck, Matlock." He clapped his brother on the shoulder and propelled him forward into Grace's range, ducking round to the other side of the car himself.

Dean looked up at Sam's words and encountered Grace's furious gaze.

"Hey, Grace, what are you doing here?" Even as he tried to keep his tone casual, one of his hands was groping for his phone and he tried to subtly look how many missed calls he had. Twenty-five. Not good.

* * *

**A/N: I don't even know why but I decided I didn't want to write the argument - it's well enough implied right? Let me know :)**


	8. Bugs

There But For Grace

Chapter Eight

_Episode Eight – Bugs_

Waking up, the severe crick in her neck was enough to inform Grace that she'd been sleeping in the Impala again, not something she enjoyed doing. When she had fallen asleep they had been in south Missouri, but, looking out of the window, it didn't seem as though they were there any more.

Massaging the back of her neck, she leaned across the back of the front seat to look out of the windscreen. There was a light drizzle falling and she was surprised to see Dean and Sam through it. They were standing talking to a man at the front door of one of the few completed houses.

Curious as to what they were doing on what was effectively a building site, Grace clambered out of the car, turning up her collar against the weather. As she walked up the path, she just caught what the man in the suit was saying.

"Let me just say – we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color or… sexual orientation."

As Sam and Dean turned to look at each other in confusion, Grace couldn't help but smile as they finally caught the guy's drift.

"We're brothers," Dean told him firmly.

"Our father is getting on in years," Sam elaborated and Grace raised her eyebrows, knowing how John would react to that kind of comment. "We're just looking for a place for him."

"Great, great. Well, seniors are welcome, too." The man enthused before looking past them to Grace, who had reached the step. "Er – " he gestured towards her and the brothers turned around, surprised to see her standing there.

"Oh, this is Grace," Sam introduced her.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Larry."

"Hi," Grace replied, taking his outstretched hand.

"Well, come on in." He stepped back and they all passed into the hallway.

"My neck is in agony and it is all your fault," Grace hissed in Dean's ear as they walked through to the garden. He only grinned in reply.

Ahead of them, Sam began to question Larry about the house and area. Grace took the opportunity to ask Dean what was going. He explained quickly about the mysterious death and the bugs Sam had found down the hole. At the mention of bugs, Grace wrinkled her nose. Spotting her reaction, Dean smiled again.

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten about that," he looked delighted.

"Shut up, it was a freaking massive cockroach. Do _not_ bring it up."

He laughed at her and went to catch up with Sam as a dark haired woman approached him.

"Hi. I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales."

"Hi, I'm Sam," he replied, shaking her hand. "And this is my brother Dean, and Grace."

"Nice to meet you. I take it you are interested in becoming homeowners."

"Er, well – " Dean shifted uncomfortably on the spot.

Sam shot him a look. "Yeah, yeah, well…"

"Well, you couldn't have picked a better place. These would be fantastic homes in which to raise a family."

All three of them stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, before registering the shift of her eyes between Grace and Dean. Sam fought to hide a smile at the look of disgusted disbelief on Grace's face and consternation on Dean's.

"Right." Dean finally recovered. "Um… I'm gonna go talk to Larry. Okay, honey?" and, as he walked back towards the house, he slapped Grace on the ass. Her expression quickly changed to one of anger as she turned to stare after him, while Sam continued to fight his laughter.

Lynda's salesman's spiel quickly got dull for Grace and she let her attention wander, trusting to Sam to pick up on anything that might be useful. Glancing around the garden she was surprised at how out of place she felt, not that she generally spent that much time looking for a house, but still.

All the people at the barbecue were so normal, so white picket fence, so suited to these houses. It had been about five months since she had met Dean and John for the first time, but already her life before seemed unreal, like an out of focus dream.

The drizzling rain had stopped and, glancing up, Grace could see some blue sky through the clouds. Deciding she should at least pretend to be listening, as apparently it was her and Dean who were looking for the house, she turned her attention back to the sales pitch.

"Who can say 'no' to a steam shower? I use mine everyday," Lynda declared, smiling at them both. Grace managed to smile back.

"Sounds great," Sam replied, sounding distracted. Grace glanced up at him in surprise, he was usually the one who preached about concentration, and saw that he was looking at something behind Linda. Following his gaze she saw that crawling towards Lynda's hand where it rested on the table was a massive, hairy tarantula.

Her stomach plummeted at the sight of its slowly moving legs and she shivered as it grew closer.

Sam abruptly reached out for Lynda's arm and moved her gently out of the way. "Excuse me," he told her and she looked at him in surprise, but moved away to accost another couple all the same.

Before Grace could work out what Sam was doing, he reached forward and picked the spider up. This was the last straw for her and she moved quickly away, back towards the house, glancing over her shoulder every now and again, to check if the spider was following her or something.

As she reached the door into the house, she met Dean and Larry coming in the opposite direction. Dean caught her arm.

"Hey, Grace, what's wrong?" His mind had already to demons, vengeful spirits, vampires, werewolves and how long it would take him to reach the Impala and some sort of useful weapon.

"There is a freaking _massive_ spider over there," she fought hard to keep her voice under control, but even the thought of it made her brush her hands over her arms and legs as she felt imaginary spiders crawling all over her.

Dean's dark, and maybe slightly paranoid, thoughts faded immediately and he smiled at her reaction, but Larry looked suddenly furious and went storming over to where Sam stood with a teenage boy.

"Matthew!" he called and the pair looked up. "I am so sorry about my son and his…pet," he apologized as Grace and Dean walked up to join them, Grace making sure to keep Dean between her and the spider at all times.

"It's no bother," Sam reassured Larry.

"Yeah, Grace is totally girly about stuff like that," Dean added. Grace reached out and hit him on the arm in annoyance.

Larry gave them a brief, tight smile and took hold of Matt's arm and began to lead him away. "Excuse us."

The brothers watched them go, while Grace looked around anxiously for any more bugs.

"Remind you of somebody?" Sam asked as they watched Larry yelling at his son. Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Dad?" Sam said as if it should have been obvious.

"Dad never treated us like that," Dean replied, dismissing the comparison.

"Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case," there was a hint of sarcasm in Sam's voice, but it was obvious it still bothered him. "You don't remember?"

"Well, maybe he had to raise his voice," Dean conceded. "But, sometimes, you were out of line."

Sam drew himself up, hands going to his hips as he grew angrier. Grace's attention was drawn away from possible insect attacks to look with worry between the two brothers.

"Right." Sam agreed sarcastically. "Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bow hunting."

"Bow hunting's an important skill." Dean replied forcefully, not wanting to hear Sam's problems with their father or his question's about John's parenting technique.

There was an expression of disbelief across Sam's face and Grace had the feeling that if this was allowed to spiral there would be some serious accusations made, and now was definitely not the time.

"Listen, can we go? I do not want to hang around here until the next disgusting, creepy thing attacks me."

They both stared at her for a moment before Dean shrugged and lead the way out of the garden, his shoulders still tense from what Sam had said.

Over the next few days the tension built still further, Dean continuing to back his father's philosophy of family before everything but taking it more literally and Sam proposing that Matt should do his own thing, not be cowed by his father's wishes. When they left Oklahoma, however, Matt and his father appeared to have made a break through, come to know each other better and become more accepting of the other and with that example before the Winchesters it couldn't help but effect their outlook.

Grace had missed a lot of the hunt, notably the most bug ridden moments, and there had been many, and she was happy to rejoin with the boys as they made their way north, having spent a couple of nights sleeping in a protective salt circle. She was happier still to find that they had somehow managed to sort through some of their issues at least, scraping the surface even if they hadn't managed to get beneath the water level to the hidden iceberg below. The mere fact that Sam acknowledged that he wanted to apologize to his father was a huge step.

Even with those developments, the atmosphere in the car as drove away was heavy, each occupied with their thoughts. Eventually, Sam sighed and, glancing at the other two, broke the silence.

"So?" he asked, as if he was prompting a conversation they had all been engaged in.

The other two shared bemused glances, before Dean asked, "So what?"

"So – where did you guys meet? What was the wedding like? Where did you go on honeymoon? How many kids are you gonna have?"

The rest of his questions were silenced as Grace grabbed him in a headlock from the back seat, scrubbing her knuckles over his forehead as he tried squirm away, attempting to defend himself through his laughter. Dean looked over them both with a smile, after delivering a cursory punch to Sam's arm, and reached forward to turn up the music as the Impala roared into the distance.


	9. Interlude 1

Chapter Nine

_Interlude 1_

Grace woke up slowly, from the feet upwards. As her eyes blinked open, she came face to face with a man.

All her instincts kicked in, everything she'd been taught came into play and adrenaline began to pump fiercely through her veins.

Her right hand dived under her pillow and wrapped around the cold handle of her gun, as her legs came up and pushed back, moving her away from the intruder in her bed.  
She sat up, cocked the gun and pointed it to his head in one smooth motion.

Then he woke up.

"Jesus, Grace!"

It was Dean. Green eyes focused intently on the silver gun that was directed at his face.

"Put the freaking gun down!"

The sound of Sam waking up came from the next bed, behind her, and he added his own swearing to the mix.

In shock, Grace continued to regard Dean as he struggled up onto his elbows. Some basic instinct was making her track him with the gun. Finally, she took a breath and released the hammer, placing the gun carefully down on the bed. Then she got angry.

"What in the name of hell are you doing in my bed?"

"Sleeping. I _was_ anyway."

"I'm not kidding, Dean!"

"Neither am I!" He regarded her for a moment and then added, as if it was obvious, "We've been sharing for ages."

"Why? Why can't you share with Sam?"

"We tried – once. He kicked me in the shin."

"You punched me in the face," came the muffled protest from the other bed, Sam had his face buried in his pillow.

"Basically – we can't share." Dean sent his brother a glare which Same found easy to ignore. "And, at that point, you guys hadn't known each other very long." Dean shrugged as best he could while still half lying down.

Grace looked quite like she wanted to punch him in the face herself.

"Look, Grace, we can't afford two rooms. And even if we could, we couldn't leave you in a room by yourself."

"You could have freaking asked!"

"Hey, I'm wearing clothes."

"Ugh, your useless."

She lay down again, her back firmly towards him.

"You stay on your side of the bed and keep your hands to yourself."

"Yes, ma'am."


	10. Home

There But for Grace

Chapter Ten

_Episode Nine – Home_

"Je_sus_," Grace swore in a croaking voice, rolling her head up from where it had been leaning against the back seat of the Impala as she awoke. "Have you two decided never to leave this car again or something?"

What had previously been an inconvenience that had occurred every now and again was turning into an extremely irritating regular occurrence, and Grace was not appreciative of waking up in the back of the car once more.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean greeted her, flicking his eyes to the rear view mirror to get a look at her bed hair. "And may I say you are looking particularly wonderful."

"Bite me."

Grace scrubbed at her eyes with both hands, trying to wake herself up properly.

"So, would you like to know how we've been spending our time?"

There was a hard edge to Dean's question and Grace looked up quickly. He was no longer looking at her, but straight ahead at the road and, when she flicked her gaze towards him, Sam was staring at his brother in apprehension.

"How have you been spending your time?" Grace asked slowly, turning to look at Dean once more.

"Well, firstly, Sammy had a nightmare. Not so strange, right?" Dean flicked his eyes towards her again and she shook her head mutely. The sarcasm in his tone was becoming more pronounced by the minute. "That's what I thought. But, turns out, Sammy here is a bit psychic. You know, can see stuff before it happens?"

"Dean," Sam protested, but he didn't have anything else to say and Dean had plenty.

"Oh, but that's not all. D'you know what his latest vision was about?" Grace shook her head again, it appeared that she had missed a lot while she slept this time and it was beginning to scare her. "Apparently, there's some blonde chick who needs our help. A blonde chick who _happens_ to be living in our old house, where – "

For the first time Dean hesitated and his other emotions caught up with his anger. Grace could easily fill in the gap, _'where our mom died'_, but Dean caught himself and restructured the sentence.

"Our old house back in Kansas. So guess where we're going? Back home to Aunty M."

He fell silent abruptly, sending Sam a heavy scowl. It was hard to tell whether he was angry because Sam hadn't told him about being able to see things before they happened or because he was being forced to physically face up to what had happened twenty-two years ago. Grace and Sam didn't know which, and Dean probably wasn't entirely sure either.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

When they pulled up outside the house on the quiet street in Lawrence, Kansas, they sat silently in the car just looking at it.

There was nothing to show what had happened there all those years ago. For something so momentous, Grace had almost expected a plaque or something.

Neither of the boys moved and, after a while, she felt the need to break the silence.

"So, that's the house?"

"Yeah," Sam said quietly.

"It's nice," she said softly, not really knowing what she meant by the comment but sure it was something more than that it looked like a pleasant house, a nice place to live.

Sam turned to his brother.

"You gonna be all right, man?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Let me get back to you on that."

They both got out of the car and Grace climbed over into the front seat. Suddenly making the decision she leaned out of the door and called after them.

"Hey, you guys go ahead, I'm gonna wait in the car."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Yeah, you should go by yourselves."

Sam nodded and turned back to the house, walking up the front path. Dean looked at Grace a little longer and she gave him an encouraging smile, which he half returned before following his brother back to their childhood home.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

When they reemerged from the house half an hour later, there was an air of panic around them. Grace looked up to see them in earnest conversation and she quickly retuned the radio to the classic rock station Dean favored and clambered into the back seat.

"Well, those people are in danger, Dean," Sam was saying as he got in the shotgun side of the car. "We have to get 'em out of that house."

"And we will," Dean told him shortly.

"No, I mean now."

Grace looked at Sam in surprise; they surely couldn't have actually found what was after the blonde woman from Sam's dream already?

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam fully.

"And how are you gonna do that, huh?" he asked, regarding his brother closely. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

Sam stared back for a minute before sighing and giving up, moving to look straight out of the windscreen.

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

Dean shrugged slightly and after a pause started the car and pulled out into the road.

Grace leaned back fully into the seat, regarding the back of the heads of the two Winchesters. She had a very bad feeling about this.

Sam's question went unanswered until they reached a gas station. Dean was filling up the Impala, Sam standing next to him, leaning against the car and watching the numbers flick by on the meter.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all," Dean said, looking around at the surrounding country rather that at his brother. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

Sam sighed. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with. We'd dig into the history of the house."

Grace clambered out of the car, her cell to one ear as she dialed her answer phone. "I'm gonna go get a drink," she told the others who nodded absently in reply.

She didn't have any new messages, didn't even want a drink that much, she just wanted to get away for a minute or two. No matter what Dean said, there was no way they could treat this like any other hunt. Even without it centering around their old home, they had been led to it by Sam's alleged psychic abilities, which, however you looked at it, wasn't normal.

When Grace reemerged, cold drink in hand, Sam was standing by the car alone, flicking through his father's journal where it rested on the roof. His pose was a familiar one to Grace, he often lent against the car like that, generally reading something, and if the journal wasn't so complicated he would know it completely by now. Seeing him in that habitual position made her study him all the closer, but however hard she looked she could see nothing different about him. She knew he could see things that were going to happen in future, but on the outside, and she was pretty sure on the inside too, he was the same Sam. He just wanted to help people and find his father.

As she stood watching, Dean came abruptly round the corner of the building, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he went.

"Hey," she called as he walked past her. He turned at the sound of her voice and Grace was surprised by the emotion in his eyes. "Are you ok?" she frowned, taking a step forward and lifting a hand to his arm.

For a moment he looked at her and she thought that he might actually say something, reveal something of what he was thinking for once. But the second was gone as quickly as it came and he was shrugging off her hand and reaching for her drink.

"I'm fine."

And he was walking back to the car and Sam, already asking if he'd found anything.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Missouri Moseley, psychic, had a comfortable waiting room, more like a sitting room of a house than a waiting room really. The chairs arranged around the coffee table and the beaded curtain that separated it from the rest of the house had Grace fighting comparisons with the oracle from the Matrix movies.

Sam was staring around with interest, but Dean, sitting to her right, was looking ahead, only the slight bouncing of his leg revealing his inner disquiet.

A middle aged woman emerged through the beaded curtain, leading a man to the front door.

"All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing," she reassured him as she ushered him out of the door. "Your wife is crazy about you."

The man thanked her, cast a smile in their direction and left. Missouri watched him go before closing the door with a sad sigh.

"Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

All three of them looked up in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth," she informed him, as if it was obvious. "They come for good news. Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day," she went to leave the room before turning back and beckoning to Grace. "You too Gracie, you're a part of this."

Grace raised her eyebrows in surprise, having just been thinking about suggesting she stay out in the waiting room. Missouri seemed to know what she was doing.

The three of them followed her into the next room and stood about awkwardly, waiting for her next thinly veiled command. It had been a long time since any of them had been in a house that they hadn't lied their way into.

"Well, let me look at you," Missouri smiled at the two Winchesters. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome," she pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid."

Dean stared at her affronted while Sam smirked and Grace failed to hide her smile. Suddenly Missouri's face grew serious and she reached out to take Sam's hand.

"Sam. Oh, honey, I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Sam frowned at her and Dean almost visibly tensed up. Missouri knew more than they were quite comfortable with.

"And your father – he's missin'?"

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked her, confused.

She smiled at him again. "Well, you were just thinkin' it just now."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Dean was more concerned with getting information about their father.

"Well, where is he?" he demanded. "Is he okay?"

Both Grace and Sam turned to look at her closely, but Missouri merely watched him sadly for a moment. "I don't know."

"Don't know?" Dean was beginning to look angry now. "You're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" Missouri grew just as aggravated as Dean. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air," she explained. Silence fell for a moment and Missouri pursed her lips, observing them. "Sit, please," she told them eventually and as they took their places, Sam and Dean on the couch, Grace on the adjacent chair, she snapped out. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!"

Dean stared at her blankly for a second. "I didn't do anything!"

"But you were thinkin' about it," she informed him.

Dean raised his eyebrows in disbelief at Sam, but his brother only smiled in reply. As Sam began to question Missouri about their father and explain what they thought was going on in their old house, Grace sank further down in her chair.

Sitting in a nice comfy armchair was a pleasant change. A change from the back seat of the Impala, the sticky diner booths, the seedy motel rooms. All the things that she feared she was beginning to hate.

Not that they had ever been a perk exactly, just that the good things about this life seemed to be rapidly diminishing and because of that the bad things suddenly seemed so much worse.

Before, when John hadn't been missing, when Sam had been safe at Stanford, when psychic visions didn't send them half way across the country and back home, things had been different. John had always treated her as something breakable that needed protecting, and she had been fine with that. Grace knew that, really, she was vulnerable and more than a bit of a liability, and she also knew that John would look after her and would be ably aided by his eldest son.

Dean had protected her, but he had also talked to her. John wasn't a talker, in any sense of the word, and, while Dean had no wish to discuss his feelings, he wanted to chat. Talk of everyday things, things that he found funny, old films, weird facts of the case they were working, he wanted someone to report back to, to try out his one liners on. And, suddenly, Grace was there. Ready and disposed to chat, whenever she was awake. Helpless enough to give him the chance to act out some of his big brother protective role and intelligent and willing enough to make conversation. She helped him miss Sammy less and he had never admitted that to anyone, least of all himself. As far as he was concerned, no could ever or would ever replace Sam.

Now, though, Sam was back and there was no need for even a pseudo replacement. Sam, Dean could protect and banter happily with for hours. Sam knew almost as much as Dean did about hunting and had a diverse enough opinion to allow for debate. They made the perfect team, and suddenly Grace was dead weight, a package that required protection but no longer held any charm in and of itself. Grace was slowly beginning to realize it and she was once more renewing her resolve to leave.

If they knew what she was beginning to think, both Sam and Dean would contradict her completely. Sam enjoyed her company, liked talking to her and teasing her, glad to know that there was someone he could confide in about issues that strayed towards emotions. Dean would be less able to vocalize why he didn't want Grace to leave. He would _say_ that it was too dangerous for her to be by herself, outside the range of their protection. But, really, to lose her everyday company – he didn't want that.

Missouri hugged Grace when they said goodbye. As she held the taller girl close she whispered in her ear.

"You stick with them, honey. He'll realize soon enough."

They pulled apart, Grace frowning down at her as Missouri squeezed her hands and nodded once.

As they drove away from Kansas, they were silent. Sam preoccupied with the knowledge that his vision had come true, just like the one he had had of Jess, and what did that mean exactly? Dean's thoughts centered on the only home he had ever really had, the one he was leaving behind him again, his mother that still protected him after all this time and the box of old photographs that was stashed behind his seat. Grace was staring at the back of his head, thinking over Missouri's last words to her and what they meant, what the psychic was trying to say, what she had seen in Grace's own mind that Grace herself was, as yet, unaware of.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"That boy – he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea."

"Mary's spirit – do you really think she saved the boys?"

"I do. – John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children? And that poor girl, she needs someone's help."

"I want to. You have no idea how much I want to see them, all of them. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

**A/N: All I have to say is - YAY! JOHN! - I love him no matter how useless he is :)**


	11. Scarecrow

There But For Grace

Chapter Eleven

_Episode 11 – Scarecrow_

Grace was half way to waking, when the ring tone of Dean's phone sounded in the darkness of the motel room. She had been debating whether she could be bothered to wake up fully, or whether it would be better to lie there on the brink of consciousness, contemplating the ceiling, safe in the knowledge that, whatever had happened while she had been sleeping, it couldn't have been that bad because she could hear both Sam and Dean in the room with her.

Dean didn't stir as his phone rang on, not even when Sam called to him. His brother sighed and struggled up on his elbow, reaching out for the phone.

"Hello?"

In the darkness, Grace saw Sam sit up suddenly.

"Dad? Are you hurt?"

That propelled Grace fully into wakefulness and she sat up as well, leaning towards Sam as if it would help her hear John's half of the conversation.

"We've been looking for you everywhere. We didn't know where you were, if you were ok," Sam's voice was accusatory, with just the slightest edge of relief.

Grace reached over Dean to turn on the bedside lamp, wanting to be able to see Sam's expression. As she moved back Dean turned over as he woke up, frowning up at her for a moment before beginning to sit up.

"We're fine, all of us," Sam's tone was impatient as he responded to John's enquiries. "Dad, where are you?" There was a pause and then his voice rose in anger. "What? Why not?"

"Is that Dad?" Dean demanded, swinging his legs down onto the floor.

Sam ignored him. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom." His expression was a mix of shock and anger and eagerness for information. "A demon? Your know for sure?"

"A demon? What's he saying?" Dean slid forward further still and Grace shifted over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

There was silence for a moment and Sam's expression changed suddenly to grief before returning quickly to impatient.

"You know where it is?" He paused a moment, waiting for confirmation of his assumption and then demanded, "Let us help." There was another pause and he spoke again, "Why not?" Sam sounded outraged and much younger than he was, reverting to a petulant child as he spoke to his father for the first time in years.

Dean held out an imperative hand to his brother. "Give me the phone."

Sam moved out of Dean's range. "Names? What names, Dad – talk to me, tell me what's going on."

It was clear that John was planning on sharing less than no information with his sons.

"No. Alright?" Sam said down the phone, his voice rising and full of emotion. "No way."

"Give me the phone," Dean demanded again, moving forward to grab it, Sam ducking out of his way, still listening to John at the other end of the line. Grace shifted until her hands were tucked under her legs, watching Sam worriedly.

When John paused, Sam opened his mouth to protest again but Dean took the phone from him before he could speak.

"Dad, it's me. Where are you?" there was concern clear in Dean's voice and it was obvious he wanted information as much as Sam did. As John talked, however, Dean's face took on a closed expression and his lips compressed together. "Yes, sir," he shifted towards the bedside table and picked up a pen, testing it on the paper the motel provided. "Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

Grace stopped watching him. He was no longer in charge, but subordinate to John once more. Sam and Dean had been trying to find their father for months, when he had disappeared it had scared Dean so much that he had gone to get Sam from Stanford, something he had promised never to do. And now, when John finally got in contact with his sons, they were prevented from asking questions, not allowed to know where he was or help with the mission that had overshadowed their entire lives.

She glanced at Sam; he was looking angry still, and hurt. Annoyed that he wouldn't be able to help fight the thing that had been the cause of so much misery in his life. Upset that within moments things were back to how they had been before he had left for Stanford, his father refusing to listen to him and Dean following every order John gave them and embodying the role of perfect soldier.

Grace sighed and got to her feet, heading towards the bathroom and a quick shower. She knew that if John was sending them information they would be on the road before very long.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Grace wasn't asleep where she sat in the back of the car as they drove towards Indiana, but she had tuned out the discussion the boys were having about the job their Dad had sent them. She was busy thinking about John, allowing herself to fully feel the relief that came with knowing that he was ok, the knowledge that immediately made her feel better, but also accepting the nagging worry that with his reintroduction into their lives would come problems.

He still hadn't seen Sam, not since they had fought before Sam had slammed his way out of his father and brother's lives to go to college. And one brief conversation on the phone had been enough for Dean to fall back into soldier routine, not the superficially light-hearted, cheeky, caring companion she had been getting used to.

She wanted, absolutely and definitely, to find John. Wanted him to be safe and well and with his sons again, but she was worried about what it would do to them, the pressure it would put on their reforged friendship.

The sudden sensation of the Impala pulling off the road, snapped Grace from her musings. She looked up in confusion and saw that Sam had brought them to a stop in the lay by.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked him, as surprised as Grace.

"We're not going to Indiana." Sam stated resolutely, hands still planted at a firm ten to two on the steering wheel.

Grace frowned. "We're not?" she asked, catching his eye in the rear view mirror.

"No," he replied, mouth in a firm line. "We're going to California," He transferred his gaze to his brother. "Dad called from a payphone, Sacramento area code."

Dean sighed. "Sam – " he began but his little brother cut him off before he could get any further.

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help." Sam exclaimed earnestly.

"Dad, doesn't want out help," Dean pointed out, raising his eyebrows at his brother.

Sam regarded him for a moment. "I don't care."

Dean twisted around in his seat to face Sam fully. "He's given us an order." He said forcefully.

Sam shook his head. "I don't care," he repeated firmly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

And it was this that Grace had been worrying about, though she hadn't thought it would surface so soon. She knew, from things the boys had let slip, but more from what the Winchesters hadn't said, that family relations were strained to say the least. That Sam's departure for college had ripped their unit apart, had left John angry, heart-broken and silent, and Dean torn and struggling to understand. She also knew that even before that decisive event there had been fights and friction, tension between the three men that lived and worked together.

John would have been trying to protect Sam. Dean as well, but Dean was the oldest and always had to have more information so he could look after Sammy and keep him from danger. Sam had never understood that; saw it as his father and brother treating him like the child he no longer was.

It didn't help that Sam's hunting had never been as instinctual as Dean's, not so ingrained and not so needed, but also more emotional, more personal, as could clearly be seen in his reasoning for revenge while Dean insisted on following orders.

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man," Sam was saying, staring at his brother with incredulity. "I mean, it's like you don't even _question_ him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good son," Dean bit out, losing patience with Sam's arguments.

Silence fell abruptly in the car and Grace looked from one brother to the other, knowing that that was a line that shouldn't have been crossed.

"Look – " she began, hoping that she might be able to calm them down, but before she got any further, Sam yanked open his door and got out of the car. "Sam!" she called after him before seeing Dean getting out as well. "Dean!" Neither responded, she sighed. "_Terrific._"

Struggling across the back seat, she opened the door and followed them round to the back of the Impala to see Sam grabbing his bags from the trunk with Dean standing over him, fury in his expression.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" he told, rather than asked, his brother. "You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

Sam straightened up. "That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is," Dean replied belligerently, not able to back down.

"No, it isn't," Grace contradicted him. "Both of you just calm down and get the hell back in the car."

They both ignored her completely.

"Well," Sam said, shouldering his backpack. "This selfish bastard is going to California." And with the words he began to walk back down the road the way they had come.

"Come on, you're not serious." Dean said, staring after him.

"I am serious." Sam called back over his shoulder.

"It's the middle of the night!" Dean exclaimed. "Hey, I'm taking off," he pointed a finger at Sam's retreating back. "I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam turned and Grace relaxed for a moment, thinking that he would come back.

Sam sighed and said softly, "That's what I want you to do."

Silence fell and the two brothers stared at each other, gauging the other's determination, wondering whether they could call the other's bluff.

Finally Dean spoke. "Goodbye, Sam," he said coldly and slammed the trunk of the car shut, striding round to the driver's door. "Grace, get in the car."

She turned to look at him, then back at Sam. "You can't do this. Sam, get back in the car, Dean don't be so stupid!" she was the only one shouting now, but she could feel hysteria rising inside her, they shouldn't be splitting up like this, they should stick together.

"Bye, Grace." Sam said softly, giving her a small smile.

"Grace, get in the freaking car or I swear to god – "

Dean wasn't quite as in control of his emotions as he would have them believe. He swung himself into the car, slammed the door and gunned the engine.

Grace gave Sam one last look before moving round to the passenger door. She was barely inside the car before Dean pulled away, leaving Sam to get smaller in the rear view mirror.

She was able to hold a silence for a minute before she turned to Dean.

"We can't just leave him."

"Just did," he replied shortly. After a moment, he glanced across to find her still staring at him. "It's his choice, Grace, I can't change that."

"You don't think we should go to California?"

"No. Dad gave us an order. It's our job to follow through, save people's lives."

She nodded sadly, turning to look out of the windscreen at the dark night outside that was just beginning to rain. She knew that, knew that's what he believed. He glanced at her profile before looking quickly away and back at the road.

"I'm sorry." He said gruffly after a moment.

Grace turned to look at him in surprise. "For what?"

"For – " he lifted a hand from the steering wheel and gestured with it. "You know."

Grace frowned, she wasn't sure that she did. Dean was looking awkward, however, and as if he _really_ did not want to talk about this anymore, so she let it drop. His brother had just walked out on him, again, that gave him license to be a bit vague or silent if he wanted to be for a while. She just prayed Sam would be back, hopefully before something happened. Dean shouldn't be on his own and she wasn't much of a help, apart from as a warm body to fill the passenger seat.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Grace woke up some time the next day, some time about late afternoon. They were driving in the car again, apparently Dean hadn't wanted to leave her in a random motel or, as was equally possible, he didn't want to be by himself on this, even if she was asleep.

Taking in what she could make out of their surroundings and shifting up into a more comfortable sitting position, she tuned into the conversation Dean was having on the phone.

"Yeah, I'm tellin' you. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun Town."

Indiana – they had made it there then, and apparently whatever Dean had found wasn't particularly pleasant.

"No. I can cope without you, you know."

It was Sam on the phone then. That was good. Grace had been afraid that Sam leaving, again, would lead to another estrangement between the brothers, but here they were happily talking about a case that apparently involved apple pie and a pagan god slash scarecrow. She was going to climb over the seat into the front of the car when the conversation took a more serious tone.

"I'm not hinting anything. Actually, uh – I want you to know… I mean, don't think…"

It didn't take much imagination for Grace to realize that when Dean paused, Sam was managing to actually articulate his apology on the other end of the line.

Dean sighed lightly in relief. "Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

Grace bit her lip, attempting as unobtrusively as possible to watch Dean's expression while Sam was speaking, trying to gauge what the younger brother was saying.

"You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have." The words calm haltingly, but it was clearly something Dean had been thinking about for a while, something that he had wanted to say. "Hell, I wish I – . Anyway – I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

That had almost been an admission to Dean wanting to stand up to their father, and tell him he was wrong, and that his family was more important than any demon, great or small.

Dean swallowed convulsively, overcoming the slight lump in his throat. "Say you'll look after yourself."

Grace realized that the conversation was coming to an end and climbed into the front of the Impala, Dean shot her a look as she settled next to him.

"Grace has woken up, you want a word?" He paused for a moment as Sam replied. "Ok, call me when you find Dad."

Silently he held the phone out to her and she took it, settling to look out of the window to give some illusion of privacy.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Hey, Grace," his voice was tired, sad, but she thought she could hear a smile in his tone. "How're you doing?"

"Not too bad. Haven't been caught by the scarecrow that is apparently roaming around. How are you?"

"Good, I'm just waiting for a bus."

"Oh, right."

They were both silent for a while, neither quite being able to articulate what they wanted to say and lacking the ability to fall back on something innocuous like the facts of a case.

Sam finally spoke. "I better get going."

"Ok. I miss you Sam."

He definitely smiled that time. "I miss you too, Grace. Talk to you soon."

"Bye."

Grace hung up slowly, taking her time before turning from the window and handing the phone back to Dean.

"You ok?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah," she took a breath and turned to him fully, putting it behind her. "How's the case going?"

"Frigging fantastic. This crazy town is sacrificing couples to a pagan god, dressed up as a scarecrow, so they can make the world's best apple pie."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Grace was practically bouncing as she walked down the corridors of the community college next to Dean.

"This is awesome," she declared, looking around the corridors with interest. "I never get to do this bit."

"Yeah, well, keep calm there, Zebedee," Dean paused before a door. "I'll do the talking alright?"

"Sure."

He knocked and the door was opened by an archetypal professor type.

Grace was as good as her word and kept quiet as Dean and the professor talked pagan gods, specifically Norse ones. When the professor brought out a book, however, she couldn't help going to look over their shoulders. As Dean pointed to a picture in the book, she finally got a look at what they were up against.

"Wait, wait. What's that one?"

Grace craned her neck to get a closer look and saw a line drawing of what appeared to be scarecrow, suspended in a field and surrounded by farmers.

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se," the professor half protested.

"Its creepy looking," Grace commented disapprovingly.

"The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity," Dean read aloud from the book. "Keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female."

He paused, studying the picture, and Grace had to refrain from sending him a significant look. All the people who had gone missing had been couples.

"It's energy springs from a sacred tree?" Dean looked towards the professor for confirmation.

"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic."

Dean looked at him speculatively. "So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

The professor stared at him for a moment before laughing. "Son, these are just legends we're discussing."

Dean quickly smiled. "Oh, of course. Yeah. You're right. Listen, thank you very much." He reached out a hand and the professor shook it.

"Glad I could help," the professor replied, turning to Grace who also held out her hand and gave him a wide smile.

Dean pulled open the classroom door for them to leave, still glancing over his shoulder. As he turned towards the corridor, he discovered Burkitsville's sheriff standing in the doorway.

Before he could react, however, the Sheriff brought down the end of his rifle hard across his head. Dean dropped to the ground, immediately unconscious. Grace had barely enough time to register what had happened when something heavy hit her on the head from behind and the blinding pain it left was quickly succeeded by darkness.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

She came to, who knows how many hours later, to find herself in a dark room. The smell of damp and feel of claustrophobia indicated it was some sort of underground cellar.

Moving her hands cautiously along the ground she was sitting on, Grace attempted to find something that would give her some kind of clue as to where she was and what she was doing there. Her fingertips brushed against something made of cold glass and it fell over, the sound of it smashing echoing about the room.

"Grace?"

Dean's voice sounded abruptly out of the darkness.

"Dean? Where are you?"

"Here. Careful when you stand up, there's a low ceiling."

His tone of voice indicated that this knowledge had been gained via painful experience. Grace got unsteadily to her feet, knocking over several bottles in the process.

"I'm over here."

She held out her hands, hoping to stop herself from bashing into anything and moved carefully forward. For a minute she was isolated in the pitch-blackness, but then strong hands grasped hold of her arms above the elbow and Dean was pulling her towards him.

"Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You?"

"Peachey," he took one hand from her arm and turned from her, apparently trying to make out some of the cellar.

"So – I take it we're now the sacrifice."

"Yeah, seems that way. Better than being shot – it's, I don't know, classier, I guess?"

"Lucky us."

No matter how hard Grace strained her eyes she could make out very little of their surroundings and absolutely nothing of any use.

"Are we gonna try and find that tree?"

"Yep, that's the plan," he looked down at her. "I don't reckon they're gonna let us just wander round the orchard, though."

"No, that'd be probably too much to hope."

With one hand still grasping hold of Dean's arm, Grace used her other to grope her way forward until she found the stairs up to the entrance and sat down on the bottom step.

Some time passed in the dark, neither of them being able to come up with anything like a good plan. Dean's final suggestions that they just wing it wasn't particularly reassuring.

When the cellar doors creaked open, the streaming sunlight that poured through them momentarily blinded Dean and Grace and they both raised hands to try and shade their eyes.

"It's time." One of the towns people looking down on them announced, an older woman who, if Grace had seen her on the street, appeared to be perfectly innocuous.

She glanced across at Dean and they exchanged looks as two men came down the stairs to take them. This didn't look good.

And it didn't get much better. When they reached the orchard, Dean and Grace were bound to adjacent trees with very little chance of getting out of their bindings. Dean looked up and glared at the man was tightening the rope around his chest.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" he demanded. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the Sheriff replied, allowing himself to be drawn into conversation.

"No, but you sure cover up after. I mean, how many cars have you hidden? Clothes have you buried?"

The Sheriff stared down out him for a moment before walking away without answering. Grace turned her attention to the man tying her ropes. He looked kind, he really did, and there were deep crinkles around his eye, indicating how often he smiled.

"Please," she said quietly, making sure to look him straight in the eye. "Please, just let us go."

He met her gaze and Grace thought for a moment that they stood a chance. Then he blinked and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

As he drew back, the other towns people began to walk away as well, wanting to get to the safety outside the orchard's limits.

"I hope you're apple pie is freaking worth it!" Dean yelled after their retreating backs.

Grace arched her back against the trunk of the tree, hoping to get the ropes to give a little, but they were tied to tightly and nothing she did had any effect on them. She sighed and looked over at Dean who was fighting his own bonds.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked him, not particularly hopeful that he actually had one.

"I'm working on it," he replied, looking around the orchard for some flash of inspiration.

"Well, take your time," Grace told him sarcastically. "I haven't got anywhere to be."

"Yeah, thanks, I will do."

A couple of hours later the last of the sun's light was fading from the sky and they were running out of time.

"How's that plan coming, Han Solo?" Grace asked, rolling her head to the side to get a look at Dean.

"I'm workin' on it, thanks, your worshipfulness."

Grace smirked at the reference and went back to trying to pull her hands out of the rope. Her wrists were sore and covered in friction burns and she had got precisely no where.

"Can you see?" Dean asked, as he struggled to look behind him.

"What?" Grace asked, doing the same.

"The scarecrow, is it moving yet?"

Grace craned her head still further. "I can't see," She told him, struggling round as far as was physically possible. Suddenly she caught sight of a shadow moving through the trees towards them. "Oh my god," she groaned, redoubling her efforts against the rope and bruising her skin still further.

As they both struggled frantically, the figure emerged from the trees and into the light of the moon.

"Dean?"

They twisted round and saw Sam standing there.

"Oh, Sam," Grace sighed and she let her head fall back against the tree trunk as her heart rate slowed.

"I take everything back I said," Dean breathed in relief. "I'm so happy to see you. Come on."

He gestured to his wrists and Sam began untying them as quickly as possible.

"How'd you get here?"

Sam shot him a guilty glance before returning his attention to the knots. "I, uh – I stole a car."

Dean laughed. "That's my boy!" he exclaimed, struggling to his feet as Sam went to release Grace. "And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

Sam looked up in confusion. "What scarecrow?" he asked.

Dean came to stand beside him and Grace grabbed onto his arm to help herself get to her feet.

They all stared through the trees to the cross where the scarecrow had been hanging. It was empty.

They exchanged looks before, almost as one, they turned on the heels and began sprinting for the exit.

"Alright," Sam called over the sound of their pounding footsteps. "Now, this sacred tree you're talking about – "

"It's the source of its power," Dean told him, darting a look over his shoulder in case they were being followed.

"So let's find it and burn it."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up."

The other two had no arguments against that plan and they doubled their pace to get out of the orchard. As the reached a clearing, however, they were pulled up short by the sight of a large group of the towns people, most bearing some sort of weapon, blocking their path.

"This way!" Dean called and they turned in the other direction to find that blocked as well. They were trapped.

"Oh god," Grace groaned as the three of them moved closer together.

"It'll be over quickly," one of the men said, the one Grace had tried to reason with earlier. "I promise."

"Just let us go, please," she begged, as Sam and Dean kept their eyes peeled for the Scarecrow.

The man shook his head. "There has to be a sacrifice," he explained. "You have to – "

Before he could get any further, however, there was the sickening sound of a sharp blade through flesh and the Scarecrow's sickle appeared from his stomach.

His wife screamed, loudly and piercingly, before the blade around her throat cut it off, and Grace turned quickly away before she saw anything else.

The rest of the townspeople ran at the sight, fearing for their own lives.

"Come on, let's go," Dean instructed and the three of them also began to run for the exit.

A sudden noise, like a snapping twig, made them all freeze and turn, but there was nothing there. The scarecrow and its victims had completely disappeared.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The next morning, Sam and Dean went back to the orchard and torched the sacred tree, ending the pagan god's reign and effectively destroying the town.

Grace was left in the back seat of the Impala, sound asleep after the events of the past few days and with livid cuts and bruises about her wrists to show for it.

She definitely wouldn't be so excited next time she was involved in a hunt, especially any that involved apples or pagan gods or fugly scarecrows.

* * *

**A/N: This one's much longer and Grace actually gets involved in a hunt! Thinking about the story line of the original episode it made sense for me to put her in there. I don't know if I even like this chapter but it took me long enough to finish so I thought I may as well put it up. Let me know what you think.**

**Also I've written some of Grace's very own story line which will hopefully be interesting and am planning on interspersing it with episodes...**

**Oh yeah, Sam and Dean, arguing - not good. I purposely made it so Grace couldn't just fill in Sammy's role because then it would be like he wasn't needed. Hope it doesn't make her annoying!**


	12. Faith

Chapter 12

_Episode 12 – 'Faith'_

"So, don't worry about it, Dad, cause, uh…I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get him better."

As Grace woke, she heard Sam's voice breaking the quiet of the motel room.

"Alright – just wanted you to know."

There was a clatter as his phone hit the table in front of him. Grace levered herself up into a sitting position, scrubbing her hand over her face.

"You were talking to your Dad?" she asked, her voice still rough with sleep.

Sam turned to look at her. "Just leaving a message," he was silent for a moment, watching her closely, before he added. "You ok?"

"Yeah, fine," Grace's eyes were still shut as she continued to wake up. When the light stopped feeling impossibly bright she looked up and round the room. "Where's Dean?" she asked, her gaze coming back to rest on Sam.

His expression immediately changed; apprehension with an underlying impression of fear. Grace knew immediately that there would be no good explanation for Dean's absence; there was no chance that he had gone to get food, or even to research a case. She swung her legs around until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing Sam.

"Sam? What's happened?"

He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands, unable to watch her face as he broke the news.

"There was an accident. At the end of the last hunt. And Dean got hurt, he was electrocuted and it damaged his heart. He's in hospital."

The sentences came out jerkily, as if Sam couldn't fully process what had happened. He was silent for a long minute before finally looking up. Grace was frozen in place and staring back at him.

"The doctors say there's nothing they can do. They say Dean's going to die."

Grace continued to stare at him, feeling as though her stomach had fallen away, her breathing growing quicker, but still unable to move. Her knuckles began to show white where her hands were clutching at her knees. Sam reached a hand forward to her shoulder.

"Grace," he said softly but couldn't think of anything else to say.

Finally, she shook her head. "No," she told him. "There has to be something, something they can do."

It was Sam's turn to shake his head. "They said his heart is too damaged," he said quietly. "But we're gonna try, ok, Grace? Me and you, we'll find a way, alright?"

Grace nodded, but even as she did so, trying to believe Sam's words, two tears slipped down her cheeks, more following quickly in their wake. Sam moved his hand from her shoulder so it wrapped round her back and went to sit next to her. Grace's head sank onto his chest and her hands grasped tightly to his shirt as her body was wracked with choking sobs. Sam's arms held firmly onto her suddenly very small form and he dropped a kiss onto her hair as his own eyes filled with tears.

Doing without Dean was not an option for either of them.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

When there was a knock at the door, Sam had just finished on the phone with John's friend, Joshua, who managed to offer something akin to hope, and Grace was in the shower, trying to scrub the tear stains from her face.

Sam opened the door warily; keeping a foot behind it to make sure it couldn't be opened any more than a few inches. He relaxed immediately when he saw who was standing there though, looking ill and broken, huddled in a hooded sweatshirt.

"Dean!" he exclaimed, surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I checked myself out," his brother replied shuffling slowly into the room.

"What? Are you crazy?" Sam demanded moving to help him in.

"Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot." Dean replied and Sam managed to laugh as he shut the door, casting a quick look outside first, just to check there was nothing there.

The bathroom door opened and Grace stood silhouetted in the frame for a moment, still wet from her shower and dressed only in a towel. After a split second she was across the room and hugging Dean, much more ferociously than was sensible for a man with a worn out heart who was unsteady on his pins. He managed to get one arm round her though and smile at Sam over her head.

"That's it, I'm dying more often. Soaking wet girls in towels never throw themselves at you when you're perfectly healthy."

Sam couldn't help but smile in return and went to sit down on the bed, as Grace pulled back, sweeping a hand over the damp patch her hair had made on Dean's shoulder, trying to brush it away. She transferred it to his elbow as he began to walk to a chair and helped him sit down on it, before remembering she was in a towel and returning to the bathroom with slightly pink cheeks.

Dean grinned at Sam, but his brother's expression sobered him quickly.

"You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing?" Sam asked and Dean raised an eyebrow in return. "It's crap. I can see right through it."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me."

"I've been scouring the internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal."

"For what?" Dean asked, raising his eyes to meet Grace's as she emerged from the bathroom again, fully dressed this time, and came to sit down on her bed.

"For a way to help you," Sam told him, shifting slightly so he could see Grace as well, she didn't look too upset, but she hadn't said anything yet either. "One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

Dean stared steadily at him for a moment and said, "You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

Sam smiled back. "I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going."

His brother sighed again and turned to Grace. It only took one glance, however, to see that she was firmly on Sam's side.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The drive to Nebraska wasn't a comfortable one for any of them. Sam was at the wheel the whole way, indicating how bad Dean was actually feeling, however little he tried to show it.

Grace refused Sam's offers to let her drive, not feeling like she would be able to concentrate on the road. In fact, her eyes barely left the back of Dean's head, as if she thought that if she looked away he would somehow disappear. Every time he shifted in his seat, she moved forward, anxious to help if she could, or possibly just plain anxious. And freaked out and worried and scared.

Dean tolerated it for the first few hours of the journey before he snapped. Ordering her to stop hovering because it was driving him up the wall and couldn't she just go to sleep or something?

After that she toned down her reactions to his every movement, but she didn't go to sleep.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

When they reached the place where miracles were supposedly happening in Nebraska, it didn't look like much. Where they parked was nothing more than a field, covered with mud, and making their slow and painful way across it towards a marquee were many sick people. Really sick.

Getting out of the car Grace noticed a sign that proclaimed 'The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle'. If that was who they were hear to see Dean was not going to be happy.

She turned back to the Impala to see Sam was trying to help Dean out of the passenger seat.

"I got you," he told his brother, a strong arm going around his back. Dean couldn't help the grunt of pain but he shrugged his brother off all the same.

"I got it," he told Sam, scowling at the sign. "Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

Grace had been right, Dean was pissed. But that was fine, as far as she was concerned. If this faith healer guy could really heal people, heal Dean; it was definitely worth him being pissed at them for a while.

"I believe I said a specialist," Sam contradicted his brother as all three of them began to walk towards the tent. "Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent," Dean bitched, casting an angry look around the place.

Grace shot him a look over her shoulder as she led the way towards the tent. She didn't think that Dean would stand much of a chance of being healed if he was so vocal about his doubts.

"I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" Dean continued, ignoring her.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean."

"Grace?" he asked, turning to her and almost pleading with his eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to change her mind on this one though.

She shrugged. "I reckon it's worth a try," she told him.

Dean stared at her for a moment but she refused to back down.

"How can you be a skeptic?" Sam demanded. "With the things we see every day?"

"Exactly," Dean replied, turning back to his brother. "We see them, we know they're real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?" Sam argued back. Grace was already beginning to tune them out, the only thing to do when they got like this was to let them fight it out. She knew that Sam wouldn't let himself be overruled on this and that was all that mattered.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

"Maybe god works in mysterious ways."

The new voice joining the argument reclaimed Grace's attention from contemplating the congregation. The woman who had spoken was young and blonde and she certainly didn't look sick, although that was really no indication. Dean was smiling at her.

"Maybe he does," he said, gesturing an about turn with his hand. "I think you just turned me around on the subject."

The woman laughed in response to the obvious chat up line.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she told him, still smiling.

Dean held out his hand. "I'm Dean. This is Sam and that's Grace."

"Layla," she replied reaching out to shake his hand and smiling at the other two. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

"Well, apparently my brother believes enough for all of us," Dean replied, the hard look returning to his face. Still angry then.

An older woman came up to fetch Layla and they said their goodbyes.

"Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways," Dean remarked, watching Layla walk into the tent. Sam smiled and Grace rolled their eyes as they followed the rest of the congregation inside.

Most of the seats were already taken by that time and Dean began to head towards a group of seats at the back. Sam caught his elbow, however, and gestured towards the front.

"Come on."

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded. "Let's sit here."

"We're sitting up front," Sam replied, implacable. Grace made her way down the aisle, taking a seat herself and resting a hand on the backs of the two spare chairs in front of her, reserving them for the boys. Turning to look back down the tent she saw Dean once again shake Sam's guiding hand off his shoulder.

They sat as Roy LeGrange took the stage, Sam insisting Dean sat in the aisle chair.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," LeGrange began, instantly quietening his audience. "Never seems good, does it?" he asked and there were murmurs of agreement in the crowd around them. Grace glanced around and saw that nearly everyone there had his or her eyes fixed on the preacher. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act." Another low rumble of acquiescence sounded from the congregation.

Dean screwed around in his seat to raise an eyebrow at her, she shrugged again. She really wasn't sure about this whole healing by faith thing, but she was ready to try anything that could even possibly help at this point. As he turned back round to face the front, Grace reached a hand out to rest on the back of his chair again, fingertips just brushing the back of his jacket. If she was touching him he couldn't leave, nothing could happen to him. And she was _so_ scared of that. It was worth him getting irritated with her, or teasing her, if she had that reassurance in exchange.

"But, I say to you," LeGrange was still speaking. "God is watching. God rewards the good, and he punishes the corrupt." The agreement coming from the people around her was louder this time, apparently this crowd were fans of the punishment, believing that they were the ones who would be rewarded and, thought Grace glancing around, who knew? They may well be rewarded.

"Who does the healing here, friends? The lord, who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

Dean leant towards Sam and muttered, "Yeah, or into their wallets", under the cover of the congregation's murmurs.

The preacher's head came up. "You think so, young man?" he asked and the crowd fell immediately silent.

Dean glanced around in embarrassment. "Sorry," he called out.

"No, no. Don't be," LeGrange replied. "Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears."

The congregation laughed and Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, nodding in acknowledgement.

"What's your name, son?"

"Dean," he replied after some hesitation.

"Dean," LeGrange repeated, seemingly weighing it for a moment, considering. "I want – I want you to come up here with me."

The congregation began to applaud and Sue Ann stepped forward to extend a welcoming hand to Dean.

He shot a quick look towards Sam before shaking his head and calling, "No, that's ok."

"What are you doing?" Sam demanded in an undertone.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" LeGrange asked.

Dean shot another look towards Sam. "Well, yeah, but – " the cheers of the crowd interrupted him and he had to raise his voice to be heard. "Maybe you should just pick someone else."

"Dean!" Grace protested from behind, prodding him in the back. He shot her a look, he really didn't want this.

"Oh, no, I didn't pick you, Dean," LeGrange replied tolerantly. "The lord did."

That silenced Dean and he closed his mouth abruptly. The encouragement from the crowd, Sam's hissed instructions and Grace pushing him from behind forced him to his feet and he walked reluctantly up to the stage.

LeGrange smiled at him. "You ready?" he asked.

Dean glanced back Sam and Grace in the crowd before turning to the reverend. "Look, no disrespect, but I'm not exactly a believer."

His smile broadened. "You will be, son. You will be," he turned towards the congregation. "Pray with me, friends."

He reached forward and laid one hand on his shoulder and Dean glanced towards it nervously. Sam sat forward in his seat and Grace's hand reached forward to grab onto the sleeve of his jacket of its own violation.

The congregation around them had lifted their arms and joined hands, a low murmur of prayer filling the tent.

Dean swayed where he stood, his eyes rolling back slightly into his head before closing completely as he sank to his knees. LeGrange increased the pressure he was putting on his shoulder slightly and Dean collapsed to the floor.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed through the crowd's cheers and rushed up to the stage, Grace on his heels after she disentangled her legs from the chair in front.

Sam grasped hold of his brother's shoulders and shook him slightly. With a gasping breath, Dean shot awake. Sam shook him again. "Say something," he instructed.

Dean wasn't looking at him though, but past him and past Grace who was holding onto his right knee tightly, to a space in the air behind the reverend, his weary eyes widening in shock.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

They took him to be checked over at a nearby hospital, overriding all his protests. The Doctor had performed some tests and was off getting the results. Dean sat on the edge of the examination bed, Sam was pacing the room and Grace sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats, sitting on her hands to stop her checking on Dean. He was frustrated enough as it was.

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asked again.

"I feel fine, Sam." Dean replied, with much less patience than he had answered with the first dozen times.

The Doctor reentered the room, eyes on the paperwork in her hands, and Grace jumped to her feet to go and stand by the two boys. She had faced some questions about being a family member when they first arrived, but she had insisted that she was without being specific about the details and they hadn't been able to turn her away. She had to know that he was ok.

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was." The Doctor told them.

Sam's face flooded with happiness and relief, while Dean continued to look skeptical. Grace suddenly felt light headed and had to go and sit down again, allowing herself time to get used to the fact that Dean was fine. He wasn't going to die. There was nothing wrong with him, he was fine, everything was going to be fine.

She took a couple of deep breaths, barely registering what the others were saying or the fact that Dean's sudden change in tone indicated that he had discovered something strange, as in supernatural strange.

She only managed to snap out of it as Sam and Dean got up to leave the room after Dean was fully discharged. She heard Dean instruct Sam to go and check out the "heart attack guy", which she had to admit piqued her interest, while he visited the reverend again. Grace knew exactly which trip she would be tagging along on, there was no way she was letting Dean go wandering off on his own for the next couple of days, not matter how irritating he found it.

When they dropped Sam off at the swimming pool where heart attack guy had had his heart attack, Grace climbed into the front seat for the rest of the drive. Despite her best efforts, the looks that she darted in Dean's direction every few seconds to check on him were not at all subtle and after a couple of minutes of just putting up with it he turned towards her.

"You want to ask if I'm ok?" he offered, with admirably limited impatience.

She smiled. "No," she told him, her smile deepening, and moved further down in the seat, resting her head against the back and relaxing properly for the first time in days, since she had found out about the accident. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

He shot her a few looks as he continued the drive, trying to decide whether it was coincidence that her hand had fallen on the seat so it was just touching his leg. He doubted it, but came to the conclusion that he didn't really mind. If he had gone through a scare like that with Grace or Sam he wouldn't want them out of touching distance either.

Not that he was going to let it carry on indefinitely.

* * *

**A/N: So, not entirely sure about this one but I have been toying around with it for weeks and there was no way I could miss the episode out - it's too important. So I just had to post the damn thing. Let me know what you think and apologies if you hate it. At least it's a long chapter right? Or that might be a bad thing...**


	13. Route 666

**A/N: Just a short little chapter......**

**

* * *

**

There But For Grace

Chapter 13

_Episode 13 – 'Route 666'_

Grace stood at the entrance of the motel car park, waiting for the boys to come pick her up. The last she had heard was that an old friend of Dean's had called and asked for their help and Dean had dropped everything to go to her aid. Oh yeah - she was a she.

Sam had immediately picked up on Dean's reluctance to go into any detail of how they met and Grace knew that when Sam thought there was something more going on than Dean was revealing there usually was. The pair of them had spent most of journey trying to get Dean to spill some details but he had been annoyingly uncommunicative.

Since then, Grace didn't know what had been going on. Whether they had been able to help Cassie and the other people of this town or whether Sam had been able to find out what happened between Dean and this girl so long ago. And she was impatient to find out.

The low rumble of the Impala sounded in the still air and Grace turned to see it coming down the road. She stepped back to let the car pull up, bending down slightly to see through the window. Surprisingly Sam was driving and Dean wasn't with him. Grace pulled open the passenger door and slipped in, smiling at Sam in greeting.

"So, what's going on? Where's Dean?" she asked as they pulled away.

"Saying goodbye to Cassie," Sam replied with a significant look. "We're meeting him at the docks."

"Saying goodbye, huh?" Grace asked with a raised eyebrow. She turned in the seat so she was facing Sam, inviting him to reveal more information.

"Yeah, turns out they went out for quite a while back in the day," Sam said, not at all loath to dissect this latest piece of Dean's puzzle. "_And_ he actually told her the big, you-can't-tell-anyone-ever family secret."

"No way!" Grace exclaimed, feeling more than a little bit like she was back in high school discussing salacious rumours. "He actually told her you guys were hunters?"

"Uh huh," Sam replied, giving her look that implied he agreed with her shock full heartedly. "And get this, she was the one who broke it off."

"Wait, she dumped Dean? Seriously?" Sam nodded. "Has that even happened to him before?"

Sam laughed. "I don't think so," he replied, grinning.

"You know, I want to meet her," Grace decided, settling back in her seat and staring out of the windscreen.

"Well, I don't know about meet, but you can see her. We're here." Sam announced, pulling up to the side of the road just past where Dean was standing talking to a girl, Cassie, Grace assumed.

Seeing the Impala pulling up, Dean walked towards them, talking to the girl with him.

Sam and Grace both had their eyes fixed in the rear view mirror, trying to watch as subtly as possible. When the pair reached the car, they paused saying their goodbyes and exchanging a kiss.

At this point, Grace and Sam exchanged looks, wide grins in place. Seeing her own expression mirrored on Sam's face, Grace couldn't help a small giggle. Dean was right, he could be such a girl, and she loved it, she needed someone to gossip with.

Dean heard them and turned around, opening the car door and jerking his head slightly to indicate the back seat. Not trusting herself to speak without laughing more, Grace obeyed, climbing over the front seats, shoving Sam's silently shaking shoulders on the way.

As the car moved off from the curb, Sam waved towards Cassie and, on instinct; Grace did as well, even though she'd never even met the girl. They got going along the road, out of the town, before Sam spoke.

"I liked her." He pronounced, decidedly.

Dean continued to look out of the window. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.

Sam was silent for a moment before he asked, "You meet someone like her, every make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?"

Grace sat up slightly, interested to know what Dean's response would be. He remained silent, looking at Sam for a moment before smiling enigmatically and taking a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment and putting them on.

"Wake me up when it's my turn to drive," he told his brother and slouched down in his seat, smile still in place.

Sam glanced up and looked back at Grace in his rearview mirror. They exchanged glances and she smiled a little, she had a suspicion that Dean's answer wouldn't be the one that any of them really wanted to hear. No matter how much he seemed to be born to this role of saving people and hunting things, no matter how adamant he was that he would do anything for his little brother, for his father and now for Grace as well, deep down she thought he sometimes had a yearning for normal that was just as strong as Sam's.

* * *

**A/N: When I was thinking about this episode I just didn't see Grace as being jealous - let me know what you think, also really hope it doesn't seem out of character for her. **

**Also - Grace and Sammy acting like BFFs makes my day :) he is such a girl sometimes......**


	14. Nightmare

Chapter 14

_Episode 14 – 'Nightmare'_

Grace was waiting for them back at the motel when they returned from making sure Max's mother gave a suitably untruthful version of events.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, flicking through the TV channels. When she had called Dean he had sounded tired, worn, like something had happened, of such unwieldy magnitude that he could barely wrap his mind around it. He mentioned something about Sam's visions before cutting himself off quickly and telling her they would be back soon. Clearly Sam had joined him and there was no way he was going to share while his little brother was listening in.

They entered the room and offered only half-hearted responses to her greetings, Sam not even speaking, just giving her a small smile. Dean immediately dragged his bag out from underneath the bed and threw her a glance.

"You be ready to go in a bit?" he asked, already gathering up his clothes.

Apparently neither of them wanted to linger in this town. There was nothing to keep her here either, so she nodded and said, "Sure, I'll just grab a quick shower." And she flicked of the TV, climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom, grabbing some clothes along the way.

She emerged ten minutes later, wearing her pajama bottoms again as she'd forgotten to actually take any jeans in with her. Dean was laughing.

"You've got a little bit more upper body strength than I gave you credit for," he told his brother, only half joking.

"No, man," Sam protested, flicking an apprehensive glance towards Grace, who was shifting through her clothes. "I moved it – like Max."

Grace's hands froze over her pile of clothes, there was something in Sam's voice that warned her that this was something serious. Something wrong.

Dean looked up from his packing to regard him steadily. "Oh. Right." He said slowly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed on a sigh.

Grace finally retrieved the jeans she was looking for and sent a look between the boys. She didn't fully understand what they were talking about, but it definitely didn't sound good.

There was a chink of cutlery on china and she saw Dean holding a spoon out towards Sam.

"Bend this," he ordered.

Sam's sigh was impatient this time. "I can't turn it on and off, Dean!" he exclaimed, exasperatedly.

Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, Grace couldn't help a smile at the two of them as she disappeared back into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later she was back out again to pack the last of her stuff – or shove it haphazardly into her bag – and just in time to see Dean push a folded priest's outfit into his almost full duffel. She didn't really want to know about that one.

"Now then," Dean announced. "I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

There was a confidence in his voice that made both Sam and Grace look over in interest, as if he really could solve all their problems so easily.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Vegas," Dean replied seriously before his face broke into a grin.

Sam scoffed at the suggestion and went to throw his bag in the trunk of the Impala, Dean still trying to argue the idea. He turned to look back into the room after loading his duffel into the back of the car.

"You 'bout done there, princess?" he called to Grace, where she stood brushing her wet hair in front of the mirror.

She rolled her eyes and smiled a little. Dean didn't seem to have caught onto the fact that calling her 'princess' wasn't an insult in the same way it was when he gave Sam the same label.

"Sure," she replied, chucking her hairbrush into the bag, zipping it shut and swinging it off the bed.

He held back the door for her and she passed out of the room before him, slinging her bag into the trunk before shutting it and walking round to slip into the back seat. Moments later they were back on the road.

* * *

**A/N: Just a short chapter. I thought the princess comment sounded like something Dean would say but he wouldn't mean it as a term of endearment. Bless him, he hasn't exactly sorted out the difference between Grace and Sam yet I don't think.....**


	15. Interlude 2 'Sink in good oblivion'

****WARNING** - stronger bad language in this chapter than there has been before, hope that doesn't bother anyone. It was required :)**

* * *

Chapter 15

_Interlude 2 – **'Sink in good oblivion, and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower.' **(D. H. Lawrence)_

"Grace."

This was going to be something serious. It was all there in Sam's low, concerned voice and soft eyes. In the fact that it was Sam talking, not Dean. It was always the younger of the brothers who tackled difficult issues first.

"Grace."

Sam leaned forward slightly to try and get a glimpse of her face. She was turned away from him, eyes shuttered and mouth tightly compressed. They were sitting side by side on the wooden steps of Bobby's porch, Dean standing next to them, his back lent against the wooden fencing that surrounded the porch, deliberately looking at neither of them, staring straight ahead over the carcasses of Bobby's cannibalized cars.

"Grace, you must have realized that you've been sleeping for longer."

All Grace wanted to do was shout that she didn't have to realize anything, actually, but that would be childish. And ignoring Sam was taking all her concentration in any case.

"Every time you go to sleep it takes longer for you to wake up than it did the time before."

Grace still didn't respond and Sam seemed to have run out of words. He tried tagging his brother into the conversation, but Dean was still refusing to look at either of them. The silence grew longer and heavier, Sam the only one even moving as his glance darted between his companions.

Finally, Grace got suddenly to her feet, muscles protesting after their long inaction. As she turned to go back into the house she couldn't help but meet Sam's eye.

"It's ok, Sam." His mouth opened immediately to reply, probably wanting to talk it through, and she did what she could to forestall him, drawing flippancy to her aide. "I'll just not sleep."

And she left them both. Strode quickly into the house to pack while Sam called after her. How she couldn't just not sleep, that that was no answer at all, that they needed to talk about this, demanding why Dean wasn't helping.

His brother refused to be drawn out on the subject however, merely giving Sam a look, saying, "Just drop it, Sammy", and following Grace into the house.

Not more than an hour later they were on the road and there was silence between them again.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

As the miles passed, they relaxed and began to talk, only of the most superficial things, and even Dean's music helped them get back into their normal routine. Over the next couple of days, however, Grace was as good as her word. She didn't sleep.

It was hard, and she became grumpy and silent fairly quickly, only copious amounts of coffee doing anything to improve her mood. This was no permanent solution and she knew it, but it felt better than giving in and actually acknowledging the panic that was rising within her, the fear that she was going to turn into some sort of comatose vegetable. And with no medical reasoning behind it.

When her last nerve snapped, however, staying awake didn't seem like a better option compared to anything and all she wanted to do was lie down, anywhere, and sleep for weeks.

They stopped for coffee and gas, and while Dean filled the car and he and Sammy discussed their latest case, Grace jumped out to get the drinks. Balancing the three cups in her two hands wasn't that easy and she walked slowly, staring down at them.

"Ow, fuck!"

Some guy had come out of nowhere, crashed right into her and she now had hot coffee seeping through her top.

"Christ, it's called looking where you're going, sweetheart!"

At the furious exclamation, Grace looked up and met the eyes of the guy who had walked into her. Within seconds she was just as blazingly angry as he was and all pain from the scalding liquid was forgotten.

"It's called getting out of my way, you fucking jerk."

She'd taken a step forward and was all but squaring up to him over the carnage of the split cups of coffee, ignoring the fact he was a almost as tall as Sam and about two and a half times broader than she was, when there was a hand on her arm and Dean was standing next to her.

"Grace," he said, low and warningly, watching her closely. She didn't respond for a moment. "Go get changed, I'll get the drinks."

She stayed staring at the man for a moment longer, before shooting Dean one glance and stalking over to the car. Dean watched her go, turning back to the guy in front of him as Grace bundled herself into the back of the Impala.

"Sorry 'bout that, she's had some bad news."

It seemed for a moment that the guy wasn't going to accept the apology, but Dean smiled, and something about that combined with the clear anxiety in his eyes as he looked back towards the car again, changed the stranger's mind. Within minutes he was apologizing himself and offering to pay for the coffees and hoping Grace was ok and should he go and apologize to her?

Dean did not think that was a good idea, but accepted his offer of the replacement coffees and they walked together back towards the Starbucks.

He didn't return to the Impala before he had fresh cups of coffee for them all and had waved the guy off on his way. Sam was leaning up against the bonnet, whether on guard duty for Grace changing in the back of the car or having been shouted at, Dean couldn't tell. He handed his brother one of the cups and went round to the driver's door so he could lean in and pass Grace hers, the lure of hot coffee would be enough to overcome any annoyance she might feel if she was still changing.

Sitting down fully in the seat, he waited until she had pulled her sweater over her head before handing over the drink. She took it greedily and silently, removing the cap to blow on the liquid until it was cool enough to drink.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Grace staring down at the dark coffee and Dean taking sips from his, his body angled towards her and his legs still hanging out of the car. It was clear to him that Sam was giving them "a moment", hoping that Dean would somehow be able to say or do something that would help Grace, calm where Sam had only succeeded in panicking.

"So, Gracie May," Dean attempted a casual tone and didn't look at her as Grace flicked her eyes up at him, narrowing them slightly in annoyance. "You've got a pretty dirty mouth on you there."

"I have no idea _whatsoever_ why I decided it was a good idea to even mention in passing that I had a middle name."

She sounded pissed, but he didn't mind. Pissed was better than apathetic, a reaction was better than silence.

"Yeah," he agreed, swinging his legs into the car and gesturing to Sam with his head. "That was a mistake."

As Sam got into the car, Dean looked back in the rear view mirror and smiled at her. Try as she might to carry on looking annoyed with him, she couldn't help a small smile in return and turned quickly to look out of the window.

They pulled out of the gas station and Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother in question as they pulled onto the road. Dean smiled very slightly in return, no victory to report but better than before.

It wasn't long until Grace was sound asleep, head leaning heavily against the Impala's window.

* * *

**A/N: I wanted to point out that I know that Bobby doesn't come into the Supernatural world until the end of series one and this is sometime after episode 14 - but, I liked the idea of them having the comfort of Bobby's house and presence behind them while trying to have this difficult conversation and he doesn't actually come into it, and I can rejig the dialogue in the later episode to fit in so... I left it. Basically I ADORE Bobby and want him in every episode. If he ever gets killed off I am going to be SO unhappy. Warning to Kripke there. Anyway - hope you didn't mind!**


	16. Shadow

**A/N: I am epically lame for being so long in updating - I know. Here beginneth the groveling :( (Better explanation in second A/N at end)**

_Episode 16 – 'Shadow'_

His boys had been caught in a trap. He'd seen them, trapped in that warehouse with that girl and those shadows. He hadn't had to see it to know that the demon was trying to stop him again. It had happened before and he was sure it would happen again, right up until he ganked the son of a bitch.

He had waited long enough to see the girl fall and some evidence that the boys had made it through mostly in one piece. Then he had left; going to the motel he had already discovered they were staying in, breaking into their room carefully, wary of the fact that it was likely to already have an occupant.

The boys had covered their tracks well. It was doubtful that anyone else would have been able to find the room or even discover which motel they were staying in. And even if they had found the room, it would have been difficult to get into and once they had, there was no evidence inside to suggest who was staying there.

He had managed it, though. John Winchester was just that good.

Now he was waiting, standing in the shadow by the window, watching the street below, the room behind him in darkness so there was no revealing silhouette cast by the light. He had been right in suspecting that Grace would be asleep in one of the beds, Dean had kept his word, as John had known he would.

The patriarch of the Winchester clan had checked on the girl when he had first entered and was glad to see she appeared to be well enough, although completely unconscious. He had suffered a few qualms about pitching Grace straight into the middle of his family and the hunting lifestyle, for themselves as well as her. They had been a tight knit group for a long time. Well, tightish, Sam the unraveled thread wandering away from the pack when he had left for Stanford.

Sam was back now though, and John was looking forward to seeing him. His youngest boy, so hotheaded, so different from himself, having been made to suffer so much so young.

John took a moment to think about Dean, but he wasn't worried. Dean had rarely given John much cause for worry. Fights in high school, more girls than anyone could keep track of, drinking more than was really necessary to unwind, were all things John could explain away. And Dean had always followed orders. Here was evidence of it. Sam was back with his family, hunting again like he was supposed to. Grace was alive, well, and, John hoped, happy enough. And that was down to Dean. Dean had been looking after and protecting them, and the three of them had got this far together.

All the poor boy wanted in return was his family back together again, and John suspected Grace was now part of that bargain. He sighed, the simple wish was not so easy to fulfill.

But this brought him back to Grace again. He did hope she was happy, or at least sufficiently content, with this new lifestyle. Although, it had been months, it wasn't exactly new anymore. The thing was, even if she didn't feel that way, there was nothing that could be done about.

John had been keeping his ears open and, judging by the rumors he had heard concerning a certain Grace Jackson, there was no way she was going to be safe off on her own. No, it was best for her to stay with hunters, ones he could trust, and to keep moving, not to settle anywhere for too long.

He had briefly considered sharing the vague knowledge he had acquired, at least with Dean, but had dismissed the idea. The fact was that it was too vague and there was no need to worry them before it was time, not when there was nothing they could do about it. When someone would profit from him sharing, he would tell.

Seeing his boys again was even more of a relief than he had thought it would be. He had been too long away from his family.

Gleaning the full story from Sam and Dean, John's thoughts of what had been behind the plan were confirmed. The demon knew he was getting closer.

It was hard for someone like John Winchester to admit fault. It was almost as hard for someone like Sam Winchester to do so, but, somehow, without either of them actually apologising or taking back their angry words of four years ago, they were reunited and back to their proper relationship.

The three men stood together in the grungy motel room, family, strong and tall together, a moment of twisted happiness and strong hope.

Far too quickly, it was shattered.

John's feet were whipped out from underneath him and he was thrown brutally hard against the cabinets on the other side of the room. Before Sam could react he was also slammed to the floor by invisible hands.

Dean uttered a heartbroken "No!" as he watched his so recently reformed family being ripped apart before his eyes. He could do no more before the carpet vanished from beneath him, slamming into his back moments later. Unseen claws began to rip at his flesh and through his pain he could see his father writing in agony.

_No. This wasn't what was supposed to happen._

Sam struggled onto his stomach and groped for the duffle bag of weapons he had insisted they brought inside, despite Dean's protests. He scrabbled around frantically for a few agonizing seconds, before his hand closed around what he was looking for. He pulled it free of the bag and held it above his head.

"Shut your eyes!" he instructed. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

On the words he lit the flare in his hand and flung his other arm over his eyes to shield them. The room was immediately filled with blindingly bright light and smoke.

As Sam had hoped, the light was enough to cause the vicious shadows to flee. It wasn't long before it was safe for them to try and escape the room and the smoke that was already beginning to choke them.

"Dad!" Dean gasped out between his coughs.

"Over here!" John replied, voice calm even though it was weak with pain.

Dean struggled across to his father and helped him to his feet.

"Sam, get Grace," he yelled as they struggled through the door. Sam hurried to the bed and picked Grace up unceremoniously in his arms before hurrying out after his father and brother.

**A/N: Mostly John orientated, hope you don't mind. I know a lot of people don't, but I love John and also Jeffrey Dean Morgan. I know he does stupid things a lot of the time (John not the adorable Jeffrey Dean who must give the best bear hugs ever) but I still love him.**

**Anyway - I could easily rename this chapter "The One That Was Like Getting Blood Out Of A Stone" (but that would probably be childish let alone misleading and that it wouldn't fit into the gap) and that added to my coursework/exams/I-have-no-where-to-live-next-year-holy-freaking-hell stress it took a while. So I'm really sorry, but hopefully as I am now on my extensive summer holidays it will go better from now on :) **

**Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it a little bit :)**


	17. Interlude 3 End of Beautiful Friendship

Chapter Seventeen

_"Louis, I think this is the end of a beautiful friendship."_

The motel room door opened and Dean ducked inside, shutting it securely behind him.

"Guess what I found in that whole five blocks of warehouses? Oh, yeah, that's right, nothing."

Sam and Grace had looked up at his entrance, but gave no reaction to his sarcastic outburst, Sam returning to his research with only a slight roll of his eyes and Grace flicking her gaze back to the TV screen.

It seemed that Dean hadn't expected much more as he accepted their silence with equanimity, pausing only to leave the car keys on the table and shrug off his jacket, before dropping down on the bed next to Grace.

"What are we watching?" he asked, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle, folding his arms across his chest.

"Not entirely sure," Grace paused as the screen switched from showing a powerful looking car sweeping along mountainous roads to three men in a studio surrounded by an audience. "It's some British show about cars."

"Huh."

There was silence between them as they watched the presenters make sarcastic comments about each other.

"What the hell is a star in a reasonably priced car?" Dean asked after a moment, disgust in his tone.

"I have no clue, this show is completely mental, before they were – "

"Brian Johnson, you're kidding!"

Dean had sat bolt upright at the announcement of the guest and his eyes were wide as he stared at the screen, watching his hero walk onto the set. This awe and excitement that belonged to a small boy, was quickly replaced by irritation mounting on anger.

"What do you mean no one's ever heard of him?" he demanded of the presenter, leaning back against the headboard in discontentment.

There was silence for a few minutes, punctuated only by the impatient noises Dean made whenever the presenter dared speak, as Brian Johnson gave his interview.

Grace laughed at the sight of the lead singer of ACDC practically bouncing up and down in excitement. "He's so cute."

"He what?"

Surprised at the venom in Dean's tone, Grace looked up from where she was sitting next to him on the bed, legs curled to her chest. He was frowning heavily and all but glaring at her.

"He looks really cute." She repeated, raising her eyebrows as if to request an explanation of his reaction.

"He is not cute. Not in any way."

"He is, he's all over excited and bouncy – "

"That man is a legend and one of the best lead singers of one of the best bands. He is not cute."

"But look at him, he's only little and he's got that sweet hat – "

"Grace!"

"What?"

"He's not cute, ok? Drop it!"

Dean grabbed the remote from her hand and abruptly switched of the television, sitting next to her quietly seething for a moment before getting to his feet and slamming out of the room.

Grace looked after him in shock before turning to meet Sam's eyes.

"What did I do?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Oh, you are in so much trouble."

She groaned and leaned back on the bed. "He's never going to forgive me, is he?"

Sam smiled more widely still. "Nope," he replied, looking entirely too pleased. As the younger brother, it was nice for someone to be irritating Dean for a change.

**A/N: Fair warning, this'll be an A/N of epic proportions.**

**Firstly, I am a bad person who neglects their stories. I'm sorry it has been ages since I posted a chapter, I've been mental busy and when I haven't been I haven't been in the mood for writing and what I have written has been appalling. Basically I've written the next chapter so many times and it has been good none of those times.**

**Decided to post this little interlude-y one shot to tide you over and to get me back into posting again.**

**Doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but the show mentioned is 'Top Gear' and I was watching it the other day and Brian Johnson was on it and he was completely cute and this situation immediately popped into my head and had to be written. And 'Top Gear' is definitely shown in America because my uncle and cousins watch it. The title quote is a slightly reworked version of the last line of 'Casablanca' if anyones counting.**

**The next chapter should also be an original story, much longer than this, featuring plot and character progression and what not. I will try and finish it as soon as I possibly can and my writing skills let me, but until then, huge apologies again and... There's no way for me to make it up, just watch lots of Season 5, it is amazing so far and I can't wait for some of the episodes they are trailing at the moment - Dean and Sammy as hospital drama doctors - YAY!**

**Anyway review :)**

**Oh yeah, one very very last thing - not sure what Dean would think but I hear rumours that Brian Johnson isn't exactly considered the best singer AC/DC have had by some - personally, I'm not bothered and not entirely sure who is singing on the versions of the songs that I have. I just like the music. And it had to be him for the purposes of this story, so please don't angry with me for Dean loving him.  
**


End file.
